Lets Be Unicorns Today
by Skillzyo
Summary: When she was nine years old, Santana Lopez caught her first glimpse of real beauty and happiness; and it came in a blonde haired, blue-eyed package. Brittana! 'Cause it was always on.
1. Of Friendship and Unicorns

I will never forget the day I discovered true beauty. It was the summer I turned nine and I was already beginning to forge a name for myself in the slums of Ohio. The run-down streets of Lima Heights Adjacent were my playground and my peers were my fearful subjects. I can't exactly say they were my loyal subjects since every one of them would turn on me if push ever came to shove. In fact, a lot of my peers had the same goal back then: To knock me down a peg so I was no longer top dog in our age group.

The days were few and far between that went by when I didn't come home with a black eye, grazed skin, or bruised knuckles from fighting to keep my position at the top of the social ladder. Most adults think children won't do any more than name calling when they're young. I learned early on, however, how brutal they can really be; especially when your skin is darker than theirs and you can't seem to fit your tongue around some of their words because your funny accent keeps getting in the way. Still, by the tender age of nine, I had already developed the reputation of a bad-ass.

I earned my title of 'bad-ass' three summers before at the park when a boy named Noah Puckerman targeted me while I jumped rope. He was twice my size and had brought a group of friends with him. They laughed at the dark coloring of my skin and mocked the way I spoke when I told them to leave me alone. Eventually, Noah started name calling but I was happy to ignore him until the moron went and spit in my face.

The simple, thoughtless action and the laughter afterward made something inside me burn, starting in my chest and flowing up to the tanned skin of my cheeks. It was in that moment I realized how it felt to have embarrassment flood through my entire being. It didn't take me much longer to realize I didn't like the feeling or the laughter so I did the only thing I could think of to make it go away.

Noah certainly didn't like my solution when my fist connected with his crotch and made him buckle over in pain. There had been a collective gasp from his posse but I didn't stop my vengeance there. I threw my jump-rope to the ground, grabbed his shoulders with my small hands and shoved him backwards onto the concrete so I could jump onto his torso and start landing blows to his face. That was the day I started my reign as Santana Lopez, the major bad-ass of LHA. It was also the day I made my first rival in Noah. Oddly enough, it was my rivalry with him that led to my first glimpse of true beauty when he issued a dare I couldn't pass up that fateful day.

The sun was finally beginning to sink beneath the horizon, painting the slums of Lima with long shadows. I was lounging on the steps that rose up to my apartment building with the gangly Finn Hudson, who was hanging on my every word as he sat on the step below me, and Noah, who had insisted on everyone calling him 'Puck' the year before to make him sound tougher. Even though Puck and I were rivals, we sought out the company from one another most afternoons; mainly because it was difficult to compete with each other if we weren't together. The idea for the dare was brought up while I was in the middle of regaling Finn with the story of how I beat up David Karofsky after the oaf tried to throw me in a dumpster.

"Hey, Finn, do you remember that old, abandoned warehouse down on Fifteenth Street?" Puck's question seemed to come out of nowhere and I glared at him for interrupting me with such a stupid question. He tried to pretend like he could ignore my gaze by leaning against the concrete pillar at the end of the steps with his hands shoved in his pockets but I saw the way his breathing hitched when I looked at him. Despite how tough he tried to appear by changing his nickname and shaving his hair into a Mohawk, I knew there was still a little boy inside of him afraid of getting his ass kicked again; and that tidbit of information made my chest swell with a pride that was almost too big to contain.

"That empty one with the collapsed roof?" Finn asked which made me roll my eyes. Weren't those the definitions of 'old' and 'abandoned'? Maybe it was because I was only nine but I honestly couldn't see why Puck voluntarily spent time with Finn. The kid was nice but he was too tall for his age, had a girly haircut, and he seemed to point out the obvious a lot. He wasn't even from Lima Heights Adjacent! Still, Puck thought he was cool so he brought the awkward boy with him whenever we would hang out.

"Well, I spent the night there last night," he bragged with a cocky smirk. This information pulled all of Finn's attention away from me as he gave a loud whoop and pounded fists with Puck. I, however, was still left in the dark about what was so cool about spending the night in an old building.

"My man! I can't believe you did that," Finn exclaimed, his own smile mirroring Puck's. "My mom would kill me if I ever tried to do something like that."

"Your mom would kill you if she knew you were hanging out with us, too," I pointed out as I sat up from my laying position on the steps. Almost all the traces of my Puerto Rican accent were gone when I spoke. I had grown tired of Puck taking easy shots at the way I talked so I had spent many nights before bed practicing my speech. If I had to sound like the idiot gringos in my neighborhood to keep my spot at the top, I would. "And who cares if you spent the night in some building? That sounds like a waste of time, not something to get all excited about."

"Shows how much you know, Lopez."

"Yeah, Lopez," Finn added on. I grimaced at the way my last name sounded when he said it. As much as I despised the accent that made me so different from the other kids my age, hearing Finn's gringo accent wrapped around my name grated on my ears. At least Puck managed to make it sound decent when he said it; mainly because it was laced with a measure of respect. "The kids on Fifteenth say that a family of witches lives in the house across from the warehouse. They're always yelling curses in their witch words. Puck could have been turned into a… uh… toad or something if he had been caught!"

"I guess he should have gotten caught. At least as a toad he'd be a lot cuter than he is now," I said with an indifferent shrug. The remark made Puck's cocky smirk contort into a scowl. I almost laughed at how easy it was to get under his skin. "Besides," I started again as I stood up from the steps and stretched my arms above my head, "witches only exist in Harry Potter. They aren't real."

"But what about the witch curses?"

"I dunno. Maybe the kids down on Fifteenth Street are making it up or they're just too stupid to understand English."

"Don't listen to her, Finn. I heard them talking last night and it's totally a witch language," Puck insisted as he shot a glare in my direction. "She's just a big chicken and doesn't want to spend the night there herself."

"Shut it, Puckerman!" I snapped at the boy before I stormed down the steps and stood toe-to-toe with him. Even though I had grown in the last few years, he was still a head taller than me so I always had to look up any time I confronted him. I didn't let my lack of height stop me from being intimidating, though. I crossed my arms over my chest and stuck my chin out, as if daring him to say something else. "I'm not a chicken. I just think it's stupid to spend the night in some dump of a warehouse when you could be doing something a little more exciting."

"Oh yeah?" Puck asked. I could see him resisting the urge to take a step back. Luckily for him, he was still leaning against the concrete pillar which kept him from making any kind of movement away from me. "Then prove it. I dare you to spend the night there tonight."

"I'll spend tonight there and every night for the rest of this week!" The words were out of my mouth before I even knew I was thinking them. It was too late for me to take them back, too. I knew it, Puck knew it, and I think even Finn knew it on some level. Once you accepted a dare, there was no going back on it without some kind of blow to your reputation; and since I had opened my big mouth and expanded the terms of the dare, my rep would be totally ripped to shreds if I did end up chickening out.

"Come with us then, Lopez," Puck said with a chuckle before he pushed himself off the concrete pillar. When the cocky smirk reappeared on his face, I knew he had planned this all along and I scolded myself for playing right into his hands. Puck probably hadn't even spent the night in the warehouse the night before. I sighed but I followed after the two boys with my head held high.

The closer we got to Fifteenth Street, the more anxious I got. Fifteenth was even deeper in the slums of Lima than my apartment complex and I had never been there. My reign of terror outside of school covered the apartment buildings around my block and the park so I never had a reason to travel further into the slums. Eventually, the rundown apartment buildings I was so used to disappeared and were replaced with ugly factory buildings on one side and dilapidated houses on the other. The unfamiliar surroundings made a cold sweat form on the back of my neck and I could feel my heart hammering against my ribcage when I saw the glares coming from the teenagers standing on some of the street corners.

By the time we reached our destination, the sun had completed its descent, leaving the streets bathed in a faltering yellow light provided by the flickering street lamps that dotted every other corner. It was in that dim, yellow glow that I finally saw the warehouse Finn and Puck had been talking about and I immediately regretted my decision to accept the dare. The building was indeed old and abandoned with the roof practically falling in. The large door in the front was so rusted it was hard to believe it had been shiny, new metal at one time. I doubted that the large door would ever be able to be lifted open again.

"Welcome to your lovely living space for the next few nights, Lopez," Puck said with a wide grin as he led Finn and me to the side of the warehouse. There, we found a smaller, wooden door. The door was just barely clinging to its hinges, which were miraculously still connected to the metal warehouse building. It creaked in a loud protest when Puck carelessly swung it open, revealing the dusty interior cluttered with debris. I had to hold back several coughs as dirt and dust entered my lungs, practically suffocating me. Finn wasn't able to hold back his own hacking and had to wait outside.

"Sleep tight, princess. We'll be back in the morning to make sure you don't run back home to mommy in the middle of the night," he promised me with a wink before backing out of the warehouse and closing the door behind him.

When I was sure I was completely alone and that Puck and Finn were out of earshot, I finally let myself cough out the grime that was taking residence in my lungs. My eyes watered when I was finished and I had to wipe them on the back of my arm. It didn't do much to help the stinging since my skin was already covered in a fine layer of dust but the habitual act did help calm my nerves. Not knowing what else to do, I began exploring my new surroundings. Not that I really cared about what was in some old warehouse but I figured looking around would keep my mind off the fact that I was alone in the dark in the worst part of town I could imagine.

Don't get me wrong; I was not afraid of the dark or being alone. My parents were gone so often for work and school that I was used to being alone; and sometimes they weren't able to pay the electric bill on time so we would be without power for months at a time. What I wasn't used to was the way the night sounded so hostile around me. Several times while I was exploring, I would cover my ears with my hands to block out the sound of gunshots coming from what I hoped was several streets over. At one point, my breath caught in my throat because I heard footsteps coming too close to the warehouse and I didn't release it until they passed by.

For all my exploring though, I didn't find much. My biggest find was the ladder that led up to a ledge that ran around the inside of the warehouse but I didn't trust it enough to try climbing it. Besides, given the condition of the roof, I doubted whatever was left of the ledge would hold my weight. Once I had examined every inch I could of my new surroundings on the ground level, I picked out the only spot in the warehouse that wasn't covered in debris and laid down on my side, using my hands as a pillow and curling my knees up to my chest for some sense of security.

I don't know how long I had been lying there when shouting made me shoot up from my uncomfortable space on the floor. I winced at the pins and needles that were running through my right arm as I pulled myself to my feet. The shouts were muffled but they were close. At first, my irrational thought was about the family of witches Finn and Puck had mentioned. Then I realized that the voices were speaking in English which made me remember witches were make-believe. Besides, it didn't sound like the yelling was coming from across the street. It sounded like it was coming from right outside the warehouse.

I tried telling myself I wasn't scared; I was Santana Lopez and Santana Lopez did not feel fear. No matter how many times I repeated that mantra, however, it didn't stop the slight shaking that had spread through my body nor could it slow down my heart, which was beating so hard I thought it was going to crack a rib. When the side door to the warehouse creaked open and two teenage guys came inside, my heart was beating so fast that it could keep up with a techno song.

The guys were still yelling when they came inside so I took my chance and scrambled to one of the larger shadows in the building. My eyes never left the two teenagers as I crept through the dark, trying to make it to the door so I could leave. I watched as one boy shoved the other onto the ground and had to stop my trek to the door when he started kicking the downed boy in the side. He kept yelling the same word every time he landed a kick. Even though I had no idea what the word 'fag' meant, I knew in that moment I would never forget it and the pain associated with it. The sound of crying finally snapped me out of my temporary paralysis and I hurried my way to the door and slipped through the door to the safety of outside.

The sound of crickets chirping in the warm night air greeted me after I stepped through the door. Unfortunately, I didn't have any idea of where to go and I was left standing outside the warehouse door in a place I didn't know. I could always go back home and return early in the morning before Puck and Finn came to check up on me. I scoffed at that thought. I was not a coward. I may not have been able to spend the night in the warehouse but I was determined to spend the night deep in the slums so I could prove to Puck I wasn't scared. The thought of Puck made me remember the witch house again.

Puck and Finn thought it was so cool to spend the night in an abandoned warehouse across the street from a supposed family of witches. Well, I could prove how bad-ass I was by sleeping in the witch family's yard. That thought brought a confident smirk to my face and I finally moved away from the warehouse and the ugly scene inside it.

The houses across the street from the warehouse were hardly any better off than the warehouse itself. Most of the paint on the houses had peeled away long ago, leaving each building as bland as the next. The peeled paint exposed grey slats of wood that showed evidence of termites and decay. There were remnants of wooden porches in front of some of them but the wood looked like it had rotted from the inside long ago so I doubted they were used for anything other than an eyesore. The only house that had any sort of color to it was the one directly across from the warehouse I had recently left and the fading green color of the paint drew me across the street to examine it more closely.

Yellow grass wilted beneath my feet as I walked across the small patch of vegetation that was considered a yard. The house that stood in front of me had a four-stepped porch but unlike its neighbors' porches, it was made out of concrete instead of wood and it was only just beginning to show signs of age. The house's paint job obviously wasn't new but the fact that I could see more paint than wood made it clear the occupants still cared about the upkeep of their home; and that they still had hope of having a chance at a good life despite their surroundings.

After my quick inspection, I blew out a determined breath and started towards the back of the house. As welcoming as the front of the building appeared, I doubted the occupants would take kindly to a strange girl sleeping in their front yard so I was hoping to find a safe, hidden place to sleep in the backyard. I found one in the form of a flower bed growing close to the house. It was surrounded by fake ducks that had been carved out of wood and painted in colors varying from yellow to purple. It was almost like looking at a rainbow made entirely out of ducks. I wasn't sure how I felt about sleeping on something as frilly as flowers but I decided it was better than sleeping on the cold concrete of the warehouse.

I made myself comfortable on the flowerbed, taking up the same position I had in the warehouse. Only this time, my back was pressed against the cold concrete of the foundation the house was built on. The coolness of the cement countered the heat of the muggy summer air and I found myself easily drifting asleep to the sound of the crickets that inhabited the flowerbed I was using.

The next morning, I was forced awake by an obnoxious red color behind my eyes. I cracked them open, only to quickly shut them again due to the sun nearly blinding me. I groaned as I rolled over, trying to avoid the glaring ball of light that had woken me. Unfortunately, the sun changed tactics and, instead of trying to blind me, it started to bake me in its warmth. I let out a defeated sigh as I forced myself into a sitting position. Now that the sun was out and I was a little less anxious about my surroundings, I was able to make out more of the yard I was sleeping in.

The flowers I had been laying on weren't actually in a flowerbed. They were a soft blue cushion of wildflowers that had managed to sprout up despite the oppressive heat from the sun. They provided a refreshing dose of color in a yard otherwise void of life. Those, and the ducks, brought a rare smile to my face as I lay back down on my impromptu bed and stared up at the blue expanse of sky above me. As I lay there, I realized something that made me furrow my brows in confusion.

I hadn't heard any of the shouting Puck and Finn had mentioned coming from the house I was sleeping by. I had heard shouting, of course; not in some witch language but in English when the teenage boys had gotten into a fight. I had heard gun shots as well but there was nothing coming from inside the house I was laying next to. I rolled my eyes when I came to the conclusion that Finn and Puck had probably been lying about the witch language and got to my feet so I could go back to the warehouse. My thoughts of the two boys reminded me they'd be back soon to make sure I stayed the whole night.

Just as I had predicted, Finn and Puck showed up at the warehouse not too long after I had forced my way inside again. It had taken me a few minutes of mental preparation to go through the door again. The scene from the night before was still fresh in my mind when I slipped through the old, wooden door and took my place on the hard floor. I had a difficult time controlling my emotions when I remembered that a boy had been laying here the night before, curled up in a ball as another rained down kicks to any unexposed body parts. The small splatters of dried blood that dotted the floor next to me made my stomach roll at the memory it brought up. I was more than a little relieved when the two boys finally showed up.

"Looks like you're still here, Lopez," Puck said after he slid through the doorway. I stood up and took a moment to look over my rival. The arrogant smirk he had worn the night before had shrunk and looked like it had lost some of its confident glow. I assumed Finn was waiting for us outside. Judging by his reaction last night, I doubted he would be coming in the warehouse again anytime soon. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who liked coughing up a lung. "One night down, six more to go," he reminded me. I replied by crossing my arms over my chest and cocking my head to the side.

"And if all of them are as easy as last night, then the rest of this week is going to be like a mini vacation," I told him with a small laugh before I walked passed him, giving him a quick shove as I went by and walked out the door. Finn was waiting outside and his jaw practically dropped to the ground when he saw how unfazed I was by my experience from the night before. Puck followed behind me. I could practically feel him sulking so I didn't bother turning around.

"I'll see you around here the same time tomorrow, boys," I said with a wave behind me. "That is, if I don't die of boredom before you find me," I added on with a smile they couldn't see. I didn't have to turn around to know there was a pout on Puck's face and that Finn still had that awed expression on his own. Despite how rough the night had been, the fact that I was already beginning to prove I wasn't a chicken made it all worth it.

The next two nights passed by almost identically to the first night I spent in the green house's yard. It always took me a couple hours to block out the angry sounds of the night air but once I got over them, I was able to settle myself into a comfortable position to fall asleep. On the third night I stayed there, however, I heard movement from inside the house I was laying next to. When I listened closer, I heard a crash followed by the sound of screaming. My breath hitched at the sound and I closed my eyes, trying to block out the yelling like I did with all the other hostile sounds that I associated with the area. The metallic screech of a screen door opening right next to me ruined any chance of that happening.

My mind raced as I tried to think of a way to get out of the flowerbed without getting caught. There wasn't anything in the yard for me to hide behind nor was there any way I could move without drawing attention to myself. With my options limited, I did the only thing I could think of and tried to make myself smaller by curling myself into a ball. Seconds ticked by and I prayed my breathing wasn't as loud as I thought it was. My prayers went unanswered and soon I felt someone watching me and I let out a defeated sigh. There was no use in pretending like I didn't know someone was there.

When I cracked open my eyes, the first thing I saw was a pair of big and bright blue orbs staring right back at me. I could see confusion in those blue depths along with a hint of amusement. The blue eyes belonged to a young girl who appeared to be about my age. She had a round face dotted with tiny freckles. It was framed by long, blonde hair, which twisted into small curls at the ends. There was a radiant smile plastered on her face despite the confusion in her eyes and I easily found myself returning it.

I was more than a little relieved that someone my age had found me instead of some psychotic adult. If the girl's parents had walked out the door, they probably would have freaked out over finding a strange girl in their backyard in the middle of the night. I was pulled out of my thoughts when the girl started talking to me. Even then, I knew I would never forget the first words she said to me.

"Are you a unicorn?" At first, I thought she was joking. If I had discovered someone sleeping in my yard, it certainly wouldn't have been my first question; especially if that someone was obviously a human being and not some mystical horse with a horn. When I looked at her though, I didn't see any sign of her playing some kind of joke on me. Those big blue eyes were focused on me with as much seriousness as a nine year old could convey and I realized that this girl was looking at me with honest curiosity.

"What?" I couldn't think of any other response to the question. I was so surprised by the question that I didn't have the mental capacity to form the word 'no'. Unfortunately, the mysterious girl must have thought I couldn't hear what she had asked me the first time so she took it upon herself to repeat the question in a much louder voice.

"I said, 'Are you a unicorn?'" I had to cover my ears since she was practically shouting into them. My eyes traveled to the screen door she had come through and I waited to see if her yell was going to bring her parents outside. She must have noticed where my eyes had landed because the smile fell from her face and she averted her gaze so she was staring down at the ground.

"You don't have to worry about someone coming outside and spotting you," the girl mumbled as she traced a pattern only she could see in the grass. I followed the long, delicate finger with my eyes, trying to figure what she saw in her mind that was interesting enough for her to trace in the grass. "They're too busy yelling at each other to care about unicorns in our backyard," she explained with a soft sigh before she looked up and locked eyes with me again. The sadness I saw there made me wish I was a unicorn just so I could make her smile again.

"I'm sorry," I started, the apology feeling foreign on my tongue, "but I'm not a unicorn."

"Oh," she replied. Her voice was heavy with disappointment and again I felt that nagging guilt clawing at my insides for putting it there. That feeling made me angry and, not wanting to be mad at myself, I directed my anger towards the strange girl in front of me. How dare some silly gringa make me feel like I had wronged her when she would probably grow up to be the all American girl who got everything she wanted with a look or a well-placed smile?

She reminded me of that Quinn Fabray girl I had shared a class with the previous school year. She had her innocent looks, flawless skin and silky blonde hair. I knew for a fact Quinn wasn't as perfect as everyone made her out to be. I had caught her cheating on more than one test and the way she spoke to people made it clear she thought she was better than everyone else. I doubted this girl would be any better than Quinn and yet she had the audacity to make me feel bad for disappointing her.

"What in the world made you think I could be a… unicorn?" I snapped at her as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Well, I know unicorns like pretty flowers and ducks; so I painted some wooden ducks and put them around these pretty flowers I found so I could catch a unicorn," she explained. She didn't seem to be affected by the bitch stare I was giving her. Instead, she leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "My plan worked. I woke up one morning and it looked like something had been sleeping in my flowers. Plus, one of my purple ducks had been pulled out of the ground."

I blushed when she mentioned the duck. The second night I stayed in the flower bed, the night air had been filled with sirens and more gunshots than usual so I had pulled one of the silly ducks out of the ground and clutched it to my chest. It had been a childish impulse and I had hoped that no one would find out about it.

"I happen to know that unicorns love the color purple," she added on in the same conspiring whisper she had been using earlier.

"Riiight… Well, if you know so much about unicorns, then you should know they have a horn on their heads," I told her as I leaned back on my hands and stared at her. "You can't tell me you didn't notice I don't have a horn."

"You could have been hiding it. Unicorns are shy," she retorted as if it were the most obvious explanation in the world. "Besides," she added before she leaned towards me again, "you have a tail," she said as she reached behind my head and played with the dark locks of hair I kept tied back in a hair-tie.

"It's a ponytail and anyone can have one. That doesn't make them a unicorn," I explained although I didn't make any move to pull away from her. Instead, I let her play with my hair as she took in what I just said.

"So you're not a unicorn?"

"Nope. Never have been and never will be."

"Well Not-A-Unicorn, I'm Brittany," she introduced herself just before pulling away from me and allowing my hair to drop back down onto the back of my neck. "I would tell you the rest of my name but I always forget it."

"I'm Santana," I replied, unable to stop the chuckle that escaped when I saw Brittany's eyebrows pull together in confusion.

"What are you doing here so early? And where are all your elves?"

"Sant_ana_, Brittany," I corrected her as a smile spread across my face. The irrational anger I had felt earlier had disappeared. For some reason, I couldn't find it in myself to be angry at the strange girl. She looked at me with an open honesty that Quinn Fabray was not capable of, dispelling my thoughts of her being anything like the arrogant girl from my old class. "Not Santa."

"You have pretty eyes, Santana," she remarked and I felt my cheeks flood with color. It wasn't the embarrassment I felt when Puck spit on me three years before. Instead, it was a pleasant warmth that made me feel like butterflies were trying to fly away with my stomach.

"Thanks," I mumbled. It was my turn to look down at the ground as I tried to figure out why looking into those big, blue eyes made my stomach do back flips. When I looked back up, she was still looking at me with curious eyes and the smile had returned to her face. I cursed the butterflies that smile brought to life and decided to change the subject from myself. "What are you doing out here so late?"

"I don't really like when they yell so sometimes I come out here to look for unicorns," she answered with a shrug. "They usually don't notice that I'm gone anyway. Once, they even locked me out because they didn't know I was out here. It was raining and I forgot my umbrella."

"That sucks," was the only reply I could come up with. It was true that my own parents were busy with school and work so I was left alone a lot but when they were home they always made sure I knew I was their world. I didn't know how it felt to be completely forgotten about. "I'm sorry I wasn't the unicorn you were looking for," I added on, surprising myself with another apology. I didn't even know 'sorry' was in my vocabulary.

"That's okay," she replied before suddenly wrapping her thin arms around me, successfully enveloping me in a hug I could not escape. Somewhere deep down, I acknowledged the possibility that maybe I didn't want to escape. "I think finding a new friend is better than finding a unicorn anyway," she whispered into my ear as she gave me a quick squeeze.

"Friend?" I asked, completely dumbfounded. Brittany barely knew me and she wanted to be my friend? That wasn't how things worked in my mind. In fact, the last few years had led me to believe that in order to be at the top, I would have to be alone. There was no way I could entrust all of my secrets to one person. After all, it would be a major risk to my popularity if I ever got into a fight with the one person I had foolishly trusted with my secrets.

"You do want to be my friend, right?" she asked. Her eyebrows had knitted together into a look I was beginning to recognize as confusion. When I looked closer at her, I could see loneliness in those sparkling blue eyes. It was something I recognized in my own eyes every time I looked in the mirror.

"I think I would really like to be your friend," I said quietly as if I was afraid to admit it to myself. "And I could teach you how to put your hair into a ponytail like mine, if you want," I added on with a half-hopeful smile.

"Promise?" she asked as she held out her pinky. I looked at her for a moment and then I looked at the pinky she was offering. Then a giddy smile broke out on my face and I linked my own pinky with hers.

"I promise," I said with more confidence than I knew I was capable of. Brittany burst into a fit of giggles and threw herself at me again, wrapping me in a one-armed bear hug while managing to keep her pinky locked with mine. I let my own laughter join hers as I returned the hug. It was while we were in our embrace that it hit me. I, Santana Lopez, had made my very first friend. It had taken me nine years to do it but it had finally happened. As I buried my smile in the long, blonde tresses on Brittany's shoulder, I knew that even being at the top of the social ladder couldn't make me happier. I also could not think of anything more beautiful than the friendship promised in the simple linking of our two pinkies.


	2. Sunshine and Bravery

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, I haven't gained the ownership of Glee in the last twenty four hours.

**Violence/Language Disclaimer:** There are a few swear words here and there from Puck and Santana. There are also quick mentions of violent behavior but nothing too graphic.

**Author's Note:** So, this is what happens when I don't want to go to sleep, I guess. Don't expect a lot of my updates to come this quickly. I was just on a roll today and couldn't stop writing. It didn't help cure insomnia any but I suppose sacrifices must be made. Thank you all for your lovely reviews of the first chapter and I hope this chapter is just as satisfactory.

**Author's Note (2):** Like I stated in the first chapter, I don't usually do 1st person POV. I think I've grown more comfortable with it in this chapter though so hopefully it will be a lot smoother. Also, I finished this at like, 5:30 in the morning. I probably should have waited until I had the chance to read over it but... I didn't. Expect rampant edits with this chapter. This will also be the last chapter where they are nine years old.

* * *

My new-found friendship with Brittany helped me get through the stupid dare I had accepted from Puck with ease. For the rest of the week, I would allow Puck and Finn to lead me to the warehouse where they would leave me with some idiotic remark that was supposed to be insulting. Then, once I was sure they were well on their way back to our street, I would slip out of the warehouse and creep over to Brittany's house where she would be waiting at the front door to let me inside so I could spend the night. Every morning, I would wake up and go across the street to the warehouse where I waited for the boys to show up. Sometimes she would come with me and stay out of sight. On the days I woke up before her, I would let her sleep in and go by myself because I didn't have the heart to wake her up.

She had insisted on introducing me to her family the first night I stayed over despite my protests. I was perfectly happy sleeping in the flowerbed if it meant I didn't have to meet her parents. She insisted though and as soon as I crossed through the front door for the first time, she dragged me over to the dining room table where her parents sat with her younger sister, Gracie, whom Brittany had briefly mentioned the night before. The three of them were playing Scrabble and, from what I could tell, Gracie was beating the two adults and she was only seven years old. It didn't look like the adults were just letting her win either. Both parents had their brows drawn together as they concentrated on the game board set up on the plastic surface of the card table turned dining table.

Brittany's mom gave up first and slid her letters back into the silver bag on the left side of the table. Her dad put up more of a fight and played around with the letters he had drawn. After a few minutes of dawdling, he followed his wife's example, shaking his head and mumbling something under his breath as he poured his own letters into the bag. Despite their grumblings, both parents had proud smiles on their faces when they declared Gracie the winner. Apparently, her prize was a quick tickle fight with her father and peals of childish laughter bounced off the walls as the tall man chased Gracie around the card table.

My head was practically swimming in an ocean of confusion as I watched the adults interact with their youngest daughter. Their behavior was completely opposite from what I had expected. The few words Brittany had said about them the night before had led me to believe they were completely oblivious as parents yet they had obviously just spent a decent amount of time doting on Gracie while they played a silly board game and ended it with a tickle fight. I looked over at Brittany for some sort of explanation only to find her watching the scene with a blank expression on her face. A bubble of anger began to form in my chest. I hadn't even been friends with Brittany for a full day and already the girl had lied to me about something as simple as her parents. I was about to confront her and tell her where she could stick her supposed friendship when she began to introduce me to her parents.

"Mommy, Daddy," she started as she practically bounced on the balls of her feet. "This is Santana. I met her last night in the flowerbed," she said. I didn't need to look over to know she was smiling; I could feel it in her words and I reluctantly felt myself mirroring her expression despite my irritation with her. My smile fell when her parents looked me over with similar surprised expressions on their faces and I squirmed under their scrutiny. Brittany must have sensed my anxiety because I suddenly felt a pinky linking with mine. "Can she spend the night?" she asked in a soft voice. She averted those big, blue eyes to the wooden floor as she waited for an answer. I watched as Brittany's mother touched a delicate hand to the big man's broad shoulder before leaving him to deal with their oldest child while she started to clean up the Scrabble board.

"Just remember to be quiet," her father finally said with a nod. His voice was gruff and musical at the same time and had a slight accent I didn't recognize. "We have to be up early tomorrow for Gracie's chess tournament and I don't want you two to keep her up," he reminded Brittany. I didn't miss the way his eyes lit up with pride when he mentioned his youngest daughter's name. I also didn't miss the flash of jealousy that danced across Brittany's features just before her face lit up with a smile again.

"Thanks, Daddy!" Brittany's squeal of excitement reverberated through the small kitchen and the blonde girl ran forward, wrapping her arms around her father's waist and resting her head on his slightly bulging stomach. The big man looked awkward for a moment as he patted a large hand on Brittany's upper back. It was almost like he didn't know how to interact with the blonde bundle of sunshine that was Brittany. "Come on, Santana. I'll show you my room," she said once she pulled away from her father, who had gladly returned his attention to the Scrabble board his wife was putting away. I bit back a yelp as Brittany grabbed hold of my hand and started leading me down the hallway. We came to an abrupt halt in front of a white door at the end of the hall.

"Don't tell me; your room is the hallway," I said in a mocking tone, still angry she had led me to believe her parents ignored her. Instead of answering me, she put her index finger to her lips and shushed me. I watched as she pressed her ear to the door and listened. "What are you doing?" I whispered as she opened the door a crack and peered inside the room, only to release a disappointed sigh a second later.

"I was trying to catch my toys," she explained as she opened the door all the way and led me into the room. I raised an eyebrow as I followed her to her twin bed. It took me a few seconds to come to the conclusion she must have recently watched _Toy Story_. That was the only logical explanation I could come up with as to why Brittany would be trying to catch her toys. Then again, from what I had seen, 'logical' didn't really apply to Brittany.

"So why aren't you going with your parents and sister tomorrow?" I asked as I took a seat on the edge of the bed and took in my surroundings. Brittany's room was a faded pink color that reminded me of Easter. The walls were covered in stickers of rainbows and several drawings of bright yellow ducks, which made me smile despite my mood. It seemed the blonde girl shared a fondness of ducks with the unicorns she had been trying to catch. What I could see of the carpet was a soft blue color that matched the comforter on her bed, which was right beneath a square window higher up on the wall. On the other side of the room, across a sea of discarded clothing and stuffed animals, was another bed covered by a navy blue comforter.

Next to Brittany's bed was a wooden, white end-table cluttered with coloring books and CDs. The end table next to the opposite bed only had an alarm clock. Against the wall closest to the door was a long white dresser. The top of it was hidden by more CDs, a stereo, a small unicorn made of glass, and a few more coloring books. Brittany's voice pulled me away from my observations and back to our conversation.

"I got us kicked out of the editorial the last time I went," she explained as she played with the edge of the blanket we were sitting on.

"I think you mean auditorium."

"Yeah, that," she agreed with a nod of her head before going on to say, "I guess you're only supposed to cheer in your head at chess games but sometimes I get so excited for Gracie, I forget. She's really smart." Only a deaf person could miss the pride in Brittany's voice when she talked about her sister.

"So you're not allowed to go because you're too loud?" I asked and she nodded in response. I could easily imagine Brittany clapping and cheering in the audience for her sister. "Well that's stupid," I muttered. She merely shrugged in response, as if getting left behind was something she was accustomed to. It made me realize she hadn't been lying the night before and I immediately felt my stomach fill with a heavy guilt for thinking she had been manipulating me. The sound of the door creaking open cut off anything I might say and we both looked over to see Gracie herself shuffling through the doorway and heading for her bed on the opposite side of the room.

I watched as Brittany's eyes followed Gracie's path with an odd expression on her face. It was a mixture composed mostly of sisterly love and awe but it was tinged with jealousy, something I had a hard time associating with Brittany. Once the younger girl was settled into her bed and her glasses were resting safely next to the alarm clock on the end table, Brittany got up and approached her younger sister. I watched as she bent down and whispered something in Gracie's ear. The younger girl giggled and shook her head before rolling onto her side to face the wall. Brittany placed a quick kiss on the exposed side of Gracie's forehead, only to have the girl make a disgusted noise and wipe it off with the back of her arm.

"Good luck tomorrow," I heard Brittany whisper before she went over to the wall and flipped the light switch, leaving the room in darkness. I could hear the taller girl stumbling over clothing as she made her way back to me. I was surprised when she didn't immediately join me on the bed. Instead, she rummaged through the drawer of the end table for a few minutes. A few seconds after I heard the drawer slide shut, a dim, pink light originating from an outlet beneath the end table illuminated her side of the bedroom.

"Gremlins are afraid of the color pink," she whispered in explanation as she walked over to her dresser and dug through some of the drawers. When she returned, she was carrying a bundle of clothing which she placed on my lap. "I'll let you pick first," she told me before turning away to give me some sense of privacy. I stared at the articles of clothing on my legs before shrugging my shoulders and picking something to wear. I ended up choosing a grey halter top that was decorated with yellow stars and a pair of soft, yellow shorts since it was too hot for sweats. When I was done changing, I cleared my throat and she turned around.

"You look super cute," she said in an airy whisper after she looked me over. The compliment made my cheeks burn again and I looked down at the bed to hide the blush I knew was coloring my face. Brittany giggled at my actions and took the remaining articles of clothing off of my lap so she could go get changed. I afforded her the same privacy she gave me and didn't look up until she said my name. "Which side of the bed do you want to sleep on?" she asked when she had my attention. I shrugged a shoulder in response. I could sleep on the floor for all I cared. Anything beat sleeping outside or in that stupid warehouse. "Well, um… would you mind if I slept near the wall? Sometimes I roll too much."

"Sure," I answered. I was rewarded with a smile as bright as the sun that made my stomach flip right before Brittany crawled onto the bed and made herself comfortable between the wall and me. I heard a content sigh behind me as I lay down on my side next to her. Neither of us bothered covering up with the comforter; the oppressive summer heat and the house's lack of air conditioning made it unnecessary.

"My parents didn't believe you were real when I told them about you today," Brittany whispered, breaking through the comfortable quiet that blanketed the room.

"Why not?" I asked as my eyelids started to droop. Brittany's bed was starting to lull me to sleep and I had to fight nearly impossible odds to keep up the conversation with Brittany. When the only answer I received was silence occasionally broken by Gracie's sleep-laden breaths, I figured Brittany had fallen asleep as well. I waited a moment longer before I rolled over so I was facing the blonde girl. I was surprised to see that her eyes were still open and completely focused on me.

"Because I'm not Gracie," she finally answered, successfully confusing me yet again. I was starting to think being confused was going to become a normal occurrence I needed to accept if I was going to be friends with Brittany; either that, or I would have to learn how to decipher her odd sentences. "You would tell me if you were imaginary, wouldn't you, Santana?" she suddenly asked and it finally clicked as to why she had been studying me so intently.

"Do you really think you could imagine someone as awesome as me?" I asked with a smile which made Brittany giggle and shake her head. "I didn't think so." The smug response made her laugh again before she scooted closer to me. I was taken by surprise when she wrapped one of her arms around my waist and rested her head on my shoulder. Strands of her silky blonde hair tickled my chin but I resisted the urge to move away from her. Something told me she needed to be close to me; that she needed to make sure I wasn't a figment of her imagination.

"You smell like sunshine," she breathed sleepily into my ear, making me jump. The observation left me speechless however, which must have amused Brittany because I could feel her smiling into my shoulder after she lowered her head again. "'Night, San," she told me before I could formulate any kind of response to her previous statement. Soon after that, her breathing deepened and she joined her sister in sleep, leaving me to fall asleep to the sound of my own thoughts.

When I awoke the next morning, Brittany was still cuddled up next to me in the same position as the night before. I smiled at the soft snoring sounds she was making before I gently pried her arm off of my waist. Not wanting to wake her, I found my clothes on the messy floor and tiptoed out of the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind me before I headed for the bathroom. I decided to change into my old clothes before I had to go to the warehouse. It would look a little suspicious if Puck and Finn found me wearing different clothes after all.

After I made sure I looked exactly the way I had when the two idiots left me the night before, I slipped out of the bathroom and threw Brittany's clothes back in her room before leaving the house. I grudgingly made my way across the street and over to the side door of the warehouse that was easily becoming the bane of my existence. Once I was inside and lying down in my usual spot, time seemed to drag by. I knew I had only been there a few minutes but each one seemed to tick by slower than the last. By the time Puck and Finn finally showed up, I was on my last thread of patience.

"I can't believe you're still here," Puck greeted me. He didn't even bother with a sarcastic good morning anymore.

"What can I say? The place grew on me. In fact, I might just stay here all day," I told him as I sat up and stretched myself out. "Don't be jealous because my new sleeping place is more comfortable than that lumpy thing you call a bed," I teased him as I got to my feet and dusted myself off.

"You're joking about staying here all day, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking, Puckerman?" I responded, crossing my arms and cocking my head to the side as I glared up at him.

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do all day then?"

"I'm not your damn mother. I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do today," I told him while I pretended to examine my nails. On the inside, I was reveling in the fact that Puck's day was ruined because he relied so heavily on my presence and I wasn't going to be around. "Hang out with Finn or something. That's why you drag him around everywhere, isn't it?" I absently suggested before I stopped examining my nails and looked up at him. He grumbled under his breath a few times but finally nodded his head.

"Be that way," he told me as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Just don't forget you have three more nights left to spend in this dump. We'll see how fond of it you are by the time the end of the week rolls around," he added before heading back outside. I chuckled when he kicked open the door and made Finn, who was leaning against the warehouse wall outside, yelp in surprise. I heard them exchange a few words I couldn't make out followed by their retreating footsteps as they walked back home. I waited a few minutes like I had done the night before and then I slipped out of the warehouse again so I could go back to Brittany's house.

I slipped inside as quietly as I had left and made my way back to the blonde's room. I smiled when I opened the door and saw that she was still sleeping soundly despite my absence. Even though I had only known her for two nights, I would have felt horrible if she had woken up to find me gone; especially after the conversation we had had before falling asleep. After watching her for a few more minutes, I slid my shirt and jeans off and changed back into my borrowed clothing before I climbed back into the bed with her. I fell asleep to the soft sound of her breathing.

The rest of the week went by in the same manner. Each night, after I crept away from the warehouse, I would spend the night in the bedroom Brittany shared with her sister and learn something new about the strange blonde I called a friend. The second night I stayed there, I learned she often confused her right and her left but she knew the dance moves to every song she listened to. Sometimes she even added her own creative flair to the dances or created new ones to the songs that didn't have music videos. The third night I stayed, I learned she loved wearing fluffy hats but she couldn't read a calendar so she never knew when to wear them. There was a downpour the last night I stayed with her and I learned she hated thunderstorms because she thought it meant the clouds were fighting with each other.

Every morning was the same as the first one. I would always wake up to find us alone because her parents had to take Gracie somewhere for chess or something related to it. After my necessary trip to the warehouse and back each morning, Brittany and I would find ways to amuse ourselves while her family was gone without getting into too much trouble. We always had cereal for breakfast because I didn't want Brittany anywhere near cooking appliances after the first morning she had tried to make toast on her own. The kitchen smelled like acrid smoke for two days even after we had opened all the windows in the house to air it out. After breakfast, we would find some other harmless activity like hair care and Disney movies to keep ourselves occupied. By the time the end of the week rolled around, I had mostly forgotten the stupid dare that had led to me meeting Brittany. Unfortunately, I had completely forgotten about my parents.

When I woke up to my last morning in the lower slums of Lima Heights Adjacent, I said a reluctant goodbye to Brittany and waited for Puck and Finn at the warehouse. I didn't bother waiting inside for them; I had seen enough of that stupid warehouse to last me a lifetime and I doubted I would ever go inside it again. When the two boys finally showed up, Puck had his trademark arrogant smirk on his face and Finn had that goofy smile on his that always made me want to smack him.

"I hope you enjoyed your last night here, Lopez," Puck greeted me. I didn't know why he was smiling since I had completed the stupid dare and proven to him and Finn that I was the biggest bad-ass in LHA. "I'm pretty sure you won't be spending any time outside your room for a while after you get home," he added on with a laugh as he led the way back to our street. It wasn't until we got back to my apartment twenty minutes later that I realized why he was so smug. By that time, it was too late; my parents were already standing on the steps to the building. My father had his arms crossed over his chest and my mom's hands were on her hips. Both wore livid expressions on their faces. I never knew my dad's face could turn such a deep shade of purple.

"Santana Alejandra Lopez!" I cringed at the sound of my full name coming from my mother. She somehow managed to lace it with anger, disappointment and fury at the same time. That, combined with the harsh glare my father was giving me made me slump my shoulders and attempt climbing the steps. "What were you thinking, Santana?"

"I wasn't, Mamí," I muttered when I came to a stop at the third step and looked down at the concrete beneath my feet. I had hoped by avoiding their eyes, I wouldn't feel so guilty for not telling them where I was the last few days. It only made me feel worse, however, because I could feel their disappointed gazes burning into the top of my head.

"Obviously, Mija," my father agreed. "That's why you will be spending the next few days in your room learning to think before you act," he said, officially grounding me for an indefinite amount of time. I didn't argue. Instead, I accepted my punishment and started up the steps again. I was stopped before I could reach the door when my parents pulled me into a tight embrace. I could feel my mother's tears falling onto the top of my head and the way my father shook as he fought to control his own emotions.

"Don't ever do that again, Cariño," my mother whispered into my ear as she ran one of her hands through my hair. "Never, ever, ever again," she repeated over and over before releasing me. When I looked at my parents again, my father had turned away from me, successfully hiding his face, and my mother was wiping away the last of the stray tears that had escaped from her eyes. A wave of shame washed over me as I finally walked passed them to go inside the building and up to our apartment.

I spent the next few days locked away in my room like a prisoner. My parents always made sure one of them was home with me while the other was away at work or school. When no compromise could be made with their schedules, they called my abuelos and made them watch me. I think I preferred even Finn's company to theirs. I could only listen to stories about what they had left behind in Puerto Rico so many times before I wanted to slam my head in a revolving door. Puerto Rico couldn't have been that great if they had decided to leave.

Finally, after a week of being kept indoors, I was allowed to leave the apartment building. The first place I asked to go was to Brittany's house. My parents had heard all about the strange girl I met during my stay in the lower streets of Lima. While they made it clear they didn't approve of how I met her, they also told me they would love to meet the girl who had managed to win my friendship and had also opened her home to me; so they allowed me to go ask her to spend the night under the condition I was back home before dark. I quickly nodded my understanding before flying out the apartment door and down the stairs. I broke into a run once I was through the main door of the apartment building, only to narrowly avoid running right into Puck. I heard him call something after me but I ignored him as I ran down the familiar streets that led to Brittany's house.

When I finally reached Fifteenth Street, a familiar sweat began to form on my upper back. It wasn't the healthy sweat from the run I had just finished; rather, it was the cold sweat of fear that always seemed to start every time I crossed into the lower slums of Lima. Even though I had spent a week there, the rotting houses and deserted factory buildings still made chills crawl up my spine. The first thing I did when I reached Brittany's house was look at the rundown warehouse across the street, half-hoping the wretched thing would be in crumbles. To my disappointment, it hadn't been destroyed by any unfortunate accidents. Even in the daylight, the building managed to look menacing; mainly because every time I looked at it, I remembered the teenage boys who had unintentionally walked in on me during their fight. Every time I thought about it, the word 'fag' mingled with the sound of a teenager sobbing and made me sick to my stomach. Feeling my stomach flip at the memories, I pulled my gaze away from the warehouse and turned back to Brittany's front door. I raised my hand to knock only to stop when I heard shouting coming from inside.

It was almost like the first night I had met the blonde girl. The only difference was I could paint a better picture in my head of what was causing the commotion. I heard something crash to the floor and I guessed it was the card table they used as an impromptu dining table. I heard a smashing sound and I could easily picture it being caused by one of their few ceramic dinner plates being thrown at the wall. I still couldn't understand the words being shouted because it was in whatever musical language they spoke that was always laced in their English but I knew it was Brittany's parents who were doing the screaming. A shrill, feminine voice fought for dominance over the sound of a bellowing masculine one and I flinched when another smashing sound emphasized whatever point the feminine voice was trying to make. The one noise I heard the loudest, however, was the metallic screeching sound of the screen door opening, signaling that Brittany had had enough of the noises and needed to escape to the outside world. The sound snapped me back to reality and I realized my fist was still raised to knock on the door. I shook that idea out of my head and walked around to the back of the house instead.

When I found Brittany, she was sitting in the bed of wildflowers with her back against her house and her head tilted towards the sky. She had her jean-clad legs bent so she could hold her knees against her chest with her skinny, pale arms. I smiled at the sight and stepped forward into her protective circle of rainbow ducks. When I reached her, I knelt down on the ground and placed a hand on the top of her knee so she would look at me. I wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted me.

A long scrape marred the skin of her left cheek and the area around her left eye was already starting to turn an ugly shade of blackish blue. When I looked closer at her arms, I noticed they were mottled with harsh red marks that looked like multiple sets of hand-prints. I followed her arms down to her hands and noticed there were several cuts crisscrossing her palms, turning the skin an angry shade of red.

"I missed you, San." The familiar, airy voice brought my attention back to Brittany's face. I was greeted by a wide smile when I looked up. I would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't been distracted by the bloody lower lip she was sporting. "I thought maybe gremlins had kidnapped you."

"No, gremlins didn't kidnap me," I assured her. "It looks like some of them tried to take you away though. What the hell happened to you, Brittany?" The question made her look back up at the sky for a moment. I followed her gaze and tried to figure out what it was she found so interesting but there wasn't even a cloud hanging in the blue expanse. When I gave up trying to find whatever it was she saw, I looked back at her to see her staring at me with those damn eyes again.

"I fell off the slide at the park," she explained with a shrug. I saw a flash of pain cross her face after she made the movement and I leaned forward to investigate. When I lifted the collar of her shirt, I found another bruise forming on the front of her shoulder.

"Brittany, slides don't leave hand-prints," I reminded her after I pulled away, nodding towards the ugly marks on her forearms. "Please tell me what really happened so I can make sure it doesn't happen again," I asked. At that point, I was ready to beg her to tell me who had done this to her so I could straighten them out. Long seconds ticked by before she let out a defeated sigh.

"I got pulled off the slide at the park today because I was using it as a lookout tower to spot unicorns again," she admitted while she traced a pattern in the wildflowers we were sitting on. "They laughed at me when I told them what I was looking for and I told them you wouldn't have laughed at me if you had been there," she continued before looking up at me again. "You wouldn't have laughed at me, right?"

"Of course not, Britt." I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile and patted her on the knee to get her to keep talking.

"I didn't think you would," she said and she returned my smile in full force before going back to telling me what happened. "Well, one of the boys there said I was just making you up the way I make up all my friends. I tried to tell them how real you are, San, but they didn't believe me. They just laughed at me and told me to get off the slide so someone else could have a turn," she explained, her voice bordering frantic when she told me how hard she tried to convince them I was real. "After that, I was going to get down but there was a big line of people waiting on the ladder and I was kind of scared of going down the slide. It was actually kind of high up which was why I was using it as a lookout tower."

"Is that when they pulled you off?" I asked in a gentle voice, surprising myself yet again. The last few years had made me think I only had three tones of voice: sarcastic, angry, and cocky. I had never had any reason to be gentle with anyone. I certainly wasn't going to be gentle with Puck or any of his friends and those had been the only people I had spent time with until I met Brittany, who was nodding her head in response to my question.

"Yeah. Two of them climbed up the slippery side. After they grabbed my arms, they pulled and I fell off," she explained. "I tried to land on all fours like a cat but I kind of just landed on my face," she added on as an afterthought. The explanation made me curl my free hand into a fist that grew tighter and tighter with every word as I tried to beat down the familiar anger I felt bubbling up to the surface. I was determined to find whoever had forced Brittany off the slide and make sure they thought twice about even looking in her direction. My thoughts of revenge halted when I heard Brittany talking to me again.

"San, what does 'retard' mean?" The question took me by surprise and I had to repeat the sentence to myself to make sure I had heard her correctly. She must have read the confusion on my face because she started to explain herself. "After I was pulled off the slide, one boy told me retards weren't allowed to use it anymore."

"It has nothing to do with you, Brittany," I quickly told her as I pushed down an odd feeling that was beginning to bubble up inside my chest. I knew it wasn't anger because anger was an emotion I was intimately familiar with. I had been angry three years ago when Puck started our rivalry. I had been angry the day Quinn Fabray cheated off my math test and then told our teacher I was the one who had been looking at her paper. When Brittany told me about what the boy had called her, I wasn't angry. It was a much stronger feeling and I didn't know how long I could keep it contained before it boiled over.

"Are you alright? You're turning a funny color."

"I'm fine," I lied through gritted teeth. I knew Brittany didn't believe me but I distracted her with a question of my own. "Do you think you could take me to the park and show me the kids you talked to?" I asked as pleasantly as I could without revealing why I wanted to know the answer. Brittany nodded enthusiastically and pulled herself to her feet. She offered me her hand and I used it to balance myself as I got up. I winced at the pins and needles that had found a home in my calf muscles while I had been kneeling in front of Brittany. As soon as I regained the feeling in my legs though, I made her lead me to the park and the kids who had pulled her off the slide.

By the time I limped back to my apartment building later that night, all the street lamps were on and the sun had sank far beneath the horizon. Brittany walked beside me with her pinky linked with mine and a carefree smile plastered on her bruised and scraped face. Our hands swung between us as we walked and I couldn't help but mirror her expression when I looked down at them and saw how perfectly our pinkies melded together.

"Are you sure your parents are okay with me spending the night?" Brittany asked as we walked up the steps to the apartment complex. I nodded to reassure her as I pulled out my key to the main door. I cursed when I couldn't get my sore hand to fit the key in the slot. After nearly dropping the key for the fifth time, I was ready to chuck it into the bushes across the street until I felt a soft hand on top of mine.

"Let me do it, San," Brittany offered before gently prying the key from my fingers and moving me away from the lock so she could mess with it. She messed up the first time because she tried putting the key in upside-down but she got it on the second try and held the door open for me. I mumbled a 'thank you' before leading the way inside.

As soon as we walked through the door to my apartment, both of my parents started in on me. My mother was using my full name again and my dad was back to using his fool-proof disappointment stare on me. It wasn't until they saw Brittany standing in the doorway that they stopped scolding me. Then they took in both of our appearances and went into what I liked to call 'doctor mode' and started patching us up. By the time Brittany and I were curled up together in my bed, my right hand had been wrapped to cover the split and torn skin on my knuckles and multiple parts of Brittany's body had been iced enough to make the blonde girl flinch every time the freezer door opened.

"I don't know how you can stand being so close to me, Brittany," I told her when she rested her head on my shoulder the way she did when I had spent the night at her house. She looked up at me and her brows were knitted together in a look I recognized as confusion. "I probably smell like sweat and boys," I explained. Both of us had been too tired to even attempt taking a shower that night so we had automatically crashed in my bedroom as soon as my parents were done fixing our scrapes and bruises.

"No," she told me as she laid her head back down on my shoulder and gave my side a gentle squeeze with the arm she had wrapped around me. "You still smell like sunshine," she assured me, which made those stupid butterflies flare up in my stomach again. I laughed when she sniffed the side of my neck. "You smell like something else, too," she said, which only made me laugh harder.

"I told you, it's sweat."

"No, it's not that," she promised. I looked over to see her staring at me with those big, blue eyes of hers as she tried to figure out what else it was she smelled on me. I was still pretty convinced it was just sweat. "You smell like sunshine and bravery," she finally decided before she leaned her head back down on my shoulder.

"If you say so," I whispered when I felt her breathing even out, signaling she was asleep. While she slept, I thought back to the events in the park where Brittany pointed out the boys she had told me about. To be fair, I had given each of them a chance to apologize to Brittany, only to have three out of four of them laugh in her face. The only one who apologized was the same one who had claimed I was one of her imaginary friends. He obviously had enough proof that I was real and made sure Brittany knew how sorry he was for doubting my existence. I'm sure the dark glare I was giving him had provided another form of motivation for his hasty apology. The other three boys I confronted needed a little more convincing and I was happy to use my fists to force them to apologize. Even though one of the boys I confronted had gotten in a few lucky shots, I had managed to sort each and every one of the idiots out in the end.

One of the kids who had helped pull Brittany off the slide went home with a broken nose. The other one left with a fat lip and an assortment of bruises covering his torso. The last kid I targeted had been the one who had called Brittany 'retard' and I made sure he got the worst of the punishment. I may have torn the skin off my knuckles while bashing his face in but it was worth it. I doubted he would be insulting anybody else after I dislocated his jawbone. I also knew none of them would tell their parents what happened either. It was bad enough to admit they had gotten their asses kicked. It was worse to admit to their parents that it had been done to them by a girl.

"Please stop thinking, Santana. Just watching you is making my head hurt." A sleepy voice pulled me out of my thoughts and I looked down to see Brittany staring up at me again. "Please?" she requested again and I rolled my eyes at her. She tried to do the same but merely ended up going cross-eyed, which made me laugh despite how much I didn't want to.

"Fine, I'll go to sleep," I promised, "but only if you go to sleep, too."

"I was sleeping until you started thinking so hard you made _my_ head hurt," she pointed out.

"Touché."

"I don't know what baking has to do with sleeping," she mumbled in a groggy voice before whispering a quick, "'Night, San."

I looked down at the sleeping figure that was practically on top of me and felt myself smile when I realized I was looking at someone who trusted me wholeheartedly and didn't expect anything back for it. In fact, she had trusted me the very first night we had stayed together when she barely even knew me. I felt my smile widen at that thought and closed my eyes. "'Night, Brittany," I whispered into her long tresses of blonde hair before finally joining her in sleep.

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**Author's Note**: Well, that was chapter 2. I think the only part I didn't like of this was close to the ending. I think it's because I was getting tired and couldn't make up my mind on how I wanted to write it. I hope you're all looking forward to the next chapter, which is where our girls are a little older and a little wiser. Okay, so they're a little older. They haven't quite hit wiser yet.  
**Author's Note (2):** I did a little bit of tweaking here and there in parts of this chapter. I still haven't gone to sleep yet so hopefully my judgement wasn't horrible when I made changes.

Translations:  
**Mija** - My daughter  
**Abuelos** - Grandparents  
**Cariño** - Darling (feminine)

Review Responses:  
**Griffnix** - I'm glad you like it. I thought it would be an interesting touch to bring up Santana's heritage. I do agree that I don't see it touched on much and I guess a part of me thought her ethnicity combined with where she grew up had a lot to do with who she is in the show. I hope I can keep up the good work. :]

**Wishing Only Wounds the Heart** - I'll try to make sure you stay in love with it, too.

**faberittana** - Obviously, I updated just for you. I'm not sure yet how long this will be but it will definitely be longer than a two shot as well.

**Bartielove**- Because Brittana fans have obviously picked up on the fact that Brittany loves girly things like rainbows and unicorns. I originally wasn't going to have any rainbows in this story but you totally inspired some of Brittany's wall decorations. ;)

**Baby Wolf** - I'm glad I was able to smooth things out towards the end. It was definitely my favorite part to write.

**Lanter** - Thanks. Hopefully this was a great continuation.


	3. Beautiful Disaster

TV Shows » Glee » **Lets Be Unicorns Today**Author: Skillzys Rated: T - English - Romance/General - Reviews: 99 - Published: 03-06-11 - Updated: 10-23-11id:6801702

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Glee.  
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Violence/Language Disclaimer:** Santana shows off her potty mouth and her bitchy side in this chapter. There is also an example of the circle of life and mentions of Pucktana.  
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Author's Note: **Thank you all for the reviews. ^_^ I hope you all still have as much unwavering faith in my writing abilities after this chapter, which was a pain in the butt to write. On a side-note, I've decided to branch away from the show's plot and come up with my own. I don't want to feel like every chapter I write from this point on is basically a one-shot response to Glee episodes. Major things like joining Glee and stuff like Quinn's pregnancy will still be touched on but I kind of want to go my own way with this story and see where it takes me. So, bear with me as I try to figure out what I want to go down in later chapters. :] By the way, writing this story has made me go back to drinking pop because Coke always seems to help inspire my creativity. If I gain back the ten pounds I lost, I blame you guys!

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The year Brittany and I made the transition from elementary school to middle school started a period of changes for both us and our peers. With the changing of schools came a change to the rules of how to stay at the top of the social ladder; and those new guidelines were far more difficult for girls than they were for boys. Popularity came to a boy as soon as he picked up a hockey stick, tried on a baseball glove or laced up a pair of cleats. The only way a girl could make herself popular was by dating a boy or donning the skirt of a Junior Cheerio once she reached eighth grade.

As a result, every girl around me was caking her face in makeup every morning in an attempt to snag the quarterback of the football team or the star basketball player so she could prove she was worth something. Every girl, that is, except for Brittany. Her pinky was still firmly hooked up with mine every day as we prowled the halls of the middle school between classes. Something about that gesture always managed to make a warm feeling spread underneath my skin. As much as I liked that feeling, however, I was worried that Brittany's refusal to even flirt with guys would have serious repercussions.

While Brittany may not have understood or even cared about the subtle rules of the social ladder, I never stopped thinking about them. I knew my reputation as a badass would only get me so far once we reached high school and every night I would stare up at the ceiling of my room, wondering how I could increase my popularity. After all, I had made a promise to myself that I would not be the subject of ridicule after the incident with Puck and I intended to keep it. Whenever I glanced down at my hands though, I remembered another promise I had made; a promise to always protect the sweet girl who continued to walk beside me every day despite my faults. The fear that I wouldn't be able to keep that promise was what made me approach Puck at his locker after school one afternoon with an offer I knew he couldn't resist.

"What brings you to my office, Little Lopez?" he asked as he grabbed a Gatorade from the top of his locker and shoved it into his backpack. I bristled at the nickname he had come up with for me since I had stopped growing in seventh grade but I held back the first reply that came to my mind. Insulting Puck would not be the best way to start off the conversation I needed to have with him.

"I just thought you might enjoy my company before you went to football practice," I answered as I stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his forearm. "Do you think maybe I could watch your practice and, I dunno, be good luck or something?" I asked as I stared unblinking into his eyes with a lazy half smile on my face.

"Luck has nothing to do with how awesome I am on the football field. It's all skill," he bragged before he shut his locker door and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "You're welcome to come watch the master at work though and feel free to bring Brittany with you. You know how much I love a crowd," he added on with a cocky grin.

"Brittz has dance class today but I certainly look forward to the show," I told him with a wink before removing my hand from his arm and strutting down the hallway. At the age of thirteen, I didn't really know what the word 'seduction' meant but every silly romantic movie I had watched with Brittany over the years had taught me how to get a guy interested in me and I was pulling out every trick I had learned. I knew it was working when I felt Puck's eyes following my every move until I turned a corner and left his line of sight. I smiled to myself as I walked through the empty halls, pleased with how well phase one of my plan was going; phase two of my plan started an hour and a half later after Puck finished with his football practice.

I had spent an hour sitting on the metal bleachers enjoying the cool breeze in the autumn air as I watched the boys sweat through their practice jerseys. In all honesty, none of them were very good. Finn had an arm on him and could throw the football almost halfway across the field but he had no control of it whatsoever. He couldn't throw a successful pass to save his life but that fact could also be attributed to his crappy defense line. The bulky Azimio was supposed to block Finn but he relied on his large frame to stop other players from breaking through rather than actual skill. His strategy never worked whenever Puck would slam into him and knock him off balance. Needless to say, I was relieved when the pitiful practice ended and Puck came jogging over to the bleachers to see me.

"So what do you think of the Puckasaurus's football skills?" he asked as he pulled his helmet off and leaned against the railing in front of me.

"I definitely haven't seen anything like them," I answered honestly, smiling internally at how fun the truth could be. Puck took it as a compliment and allowed a proud smile to spread across his face. I took that as my cue to keep going with my plan and leaned forward. "You know, the Junior Cheerios squad is holding tryouts in a few days. How awesome would it be if the school's star football player was dating the best cheerleader?" I asked as I dragged a finger along his chest and down his torso. I smiled when I felt his muscles nervously twitching beneath his skin. It seemed there was more than one way to intimidate Noah Puckerman.

"That _would_ be pretty badass and the Puckster is always down for that," he replied with a shrug. The proud smile had slipped back into the familiar cocky one and I easily returned it.

"Trust me; badass is the only way I know how to do things," I told him before leaning even further forward and planting a kiss on his lips. I had meant for it to be quick just so I could get my point across but Puck insisted on deepening it. He practically forced his tongue into my mouth and it took all my self control to keep myself from biting him. A few seconds later, I decided he had had enough and pulled away. I somehow resisted the urge to wipe my mouth and instead stood up from my seat.

"I'll see you around school tomorrow, Puckerman," I told him as I picked up my books and started walking down the steps of the bleachers. When I got to the bottom step, he put his hand on my shoulder to stop me from walking away.

"Just make sure you get on the Junior Cheerios or the Puckasaurus is off-limits," he reminded me. He released my shoulder after I nodded my understanding and I quickly turned and walked away from him so he wouldn't see the triumphant smile on my face. Phase two of my plan was complete and the only thing left to do was secure a spot on the Junior Cheerios.

Later that evening, I sat on a wooden bench in front of Lima's only dance studio with a water bottle in my hand and watched the steady flow of traffic whiz by while I waited for Brittany. It was a ritual that had started two years before in sixth grade when Brittany first got into the dance program. Every Friday, I would wait outside for her to come running out the door to greet me. She wouldn't let me wait for her inside because she was afraid I would see her mess up. It never occurred to her that I could watch her through the large, vertical windows that lined the front of the dance studio, which is exactly what I would do sometimes when I got tired of watching cars pass by.

The sound of bells jingling pulled my attention away from my thoughts and I looked behind me to see Brittany walking backwards through the door. I watched her wave goodbye to her fellow dancers and smiled when she turned in my direction. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her usually blonde bangs had been darkened by the damp sweat covering her forehead. The rest of her was covered in a thin layer of perspiration as well but her skin had a healthy glow to it that only intensified when she returned my smile with one of her own.

"Have fun?" I asked as I offered her the water bottle I had been holding. She nodded before she gratefully took the bottle and guzzled its contents. She often got so excited about going to dance class that she forgot to bring her own drink with her so I had started bringing a water bottle with me whenever I came to walk her home.

"The instructor let me do a dance all on my own in front of the class," she said after she finished half the water and started walking in the direction of my neighborhood. I quickly took the lead just in case Brittany forgot I didn't live in Lima Heights Adjacent anymore. My family and I had moved out of our apartment complex and into a moderately big townhouse two years ago after my father's medical practice began to take off. Sometimes, Brittany would start walking towards my old neighborhood out of habit though and I would have to remind her I didn't live there anymore. Once I was sure Brittany wasn't going to start walking in the wrong direction, I slowed my pace so I was beside her.

"How did it go?" I asked, although I was pretty confident Brittany's performance had blown everyone out of the water. I had never met anyone else who could be so fluid with her body and yet still command so much control over it. Whenever Brittany danced, it was as if she transformed into a completely different person. Every time I watched her, I would become so entranced in her performance it was like I was transported to another level of consciousness; and for a brief moment, I would get a glimpse into Brittany's mind and feel everything she was feeling.

"He said I deserved a standing ovation when I was finished." Brittany's answer brought me out of my musings and I watched her brows scrunch together before she asked, "Why does he want me to get a job standing all day?"

"He doesn't, Brittz," I replied, chuckling at her mix up of the words 'ovation' and 'vocation'. "It means you did a great job, you big goofball," I explained with a hint of pride in my voice as I bumped my hip into hers. I was always happy to make sure Brittany knew how proud I was of her for excelling in her dance class since her parents never would. They were so wrapped up in Gracie's academic skills that they never noticed the raw and natural talent their older daughter had with dance. Just like the rest of the world, whenever they looked at Brittany, all they saw was a girl with her head stuck in the clouds.

They were never quite sure how to deal with her odd remarks or her random bursts of affection so they focused all of their attention on Gracie, the brainy child who could do no wrong. The only time they seemed to remember Brittany existed was when a report card would come in the mail or if someone would comment on her strange behavior. Even then, they would simply yell and accuse one another of being the reason why Brittany wasn't a straight A honor student like her younger sister.

"Oh. That makes more sense," she said in response to my explanation, oblivious to my current train of thought about her parents. "Are you still coming to my recital next Saturday?" she asked with an expectant expression on her face. I was fairly certain she already knew the answer.

"I haven't missed one yet, have I?" When no answer came, I looked over to see a thoughtful look on Brittany's face. Finally, she shook her head. "That's right, so I don't know why you would think I would start missing them now," I said before focusing my gaze in front of me again. After that, we walked together in a comfortable silence until we got to my street and I decided to break the news to her about Puck and me.

"Britt," I started in a faltering voice, "would you mind if I asked Puck to go to the recital with me next week?" The question felt heavy on my tongue and it took a considerable amount of willpower to get it out. I hesitantly looked over to see her staring at me with those questioning eyes that always managed to make my heart skip a beat or two. "I mean, I figured since we were trying out for the Junior Cheerios in a few days, it would make sense to date a football player," I quickly explained.

"You don't like Puck though," she pointed out and I could almost hear her brain trying to work out an explanation as to why I would date the boy I had always had an intense rivalry with.

"I know but I'm comfortable with him," I said with a shrug. The explanation I gave her made me think back to the kiss I had shared with Puck and I involuntarily grimaced. That had been the furthest thing from comfortable. While he had been my first kiss, I knew for a fact that I wasn't his and I had hoped his experience with other girls would have made him some fantastic kisser. Those hopes had been dashed the moment he shoved his tongue in my mouth. "Besides," I continued as I tried to push the kiss out of my mind, "dating him beats dating Finn or some guy I barely know."

"I just don't see why you have to date anyone," she whispered almost inaudibly before she sat down on the sidewalk in front of my house and stared down at the concrete. I sighed and sat down next to her. I placed a comforting hand on her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze, which made her look up at me.

"Brittany, we're going to be in high school next year," I started when I was sure I had the complete attention of those deep blue eyes. "I don't want to be a nobody when I get there and I certainly don't want a slushy facial every morning. You've seen how Rachel and those other losers get treated and I don't want any part of it."

"But you're not a loser, San."

"I know that, you know that, and the rest of the school knows that but that isn't going to count for much when we go to McKinley," I explained before I rested my head on her shoulder. I was surprised by how tense her muscles felt beneath my cheek. It was as if Brittany was steeling herself for some kind of blow that my words might cause. I gently trailed my finger in lazy circles on her forearm in an attempt to get her to loosen up and smiled once I succeeded. "There are going to be a shitload of people to impress, Brittz, and I can't do that by walking through those doors a single woman. Get it?"

"Yes," she said with a nod and I glanced up at her face to see that she really did understand what I was trying to tell her. It didn't take a genius to know she wasn't happy with my reasoning though. Still, she accepted my explanation and she was willing to put up with my decision to date Puck which was enough for me. "Promise you'll still spend time with me after you start dating him?" she asked. I answered her by linking our pinkies together and holding our conjoined hands up in front of her.

"I'm not going to stop hanging out with you just because I'm dating Puck. You're my best friend and a stupid boy isn't going to change that," I promised her and I was rewarded with a blinding smile as Brittany wrapped her free arm around me and pulled me into a tight hug. Once the embrace ended, she got to her feet and pulled me up with her.

"Come on, San! We're going to be late for _One Tree Hill_!" I groaned at the thought of yet another episode of _One Tree Hill_ but I followed her to the front porch of my house and hurried to unlock the front door. As soon as I had the door open, she flew passed me and made a bee-line for the stairs, leaving me and the conversation we just had behind on the front porch.

My relationship with Puck wasn't the only thing to change that year. After Brittany and I earned spots on the Junior Cheerios squad a few days after our conversation, we ended up becoming friends with Quinn Fabray. Well, Brittany was friends with her; I still thought she was a spoiled rich girl with classic, All-American looks that would get her whatever she wanted. She made her feelings for me clear every time she looked down her nose at me. To her, I was just another stupid immigrant her father complained about taking jobs from real Americans all the time; never mind that I had been born and raised in Lima or that both my parents had earned their medical and law degrees and that Puerto Rico was governed by the United States. Still, despite our dislike for one another, Quinn and I needed each other to keep our positions at the top of the social pyramid.

Quinn needed the extra protection of my reputation to keep people from harassing her. Even though she had cultivated the perfect personality over the years to make people respect her, having the local bad-ass as one of her closest friends gave her an edge that made people think twice about talking smack about her. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed Quinn's reputation as the most popular girl in school just as much as she needed mine. While my tentative friendship with Quinn and reluctant relationship with Puck were both significant changes though, neither of them could compete with what happened the night Brittany asked me to help her babysit Gracie.

The night had started off normally enough when I walked through the front door and saw Gracie curled up on the couch with a book in her hands and therapeutic candles burning on the end table. Her parents had insisted on buying them for her after she had experienced a minor breakdown the year before. Apparently, the stress of being the brainiac child had finally pushed her over the edge and she had locked herself in her room for three days straight. The only person she had allowed to see her was Brittany, which I knew had pissed her parents off. The whole ordeal had turned Brittany into a wreck for days, even after Gracie finally came out of her room.

I shook off those unpleasant memories as I took my coat off. I made an off-hand dig at Gracie as I hung my coat up on the metal coat rack next to the door. The younger Pierce didn't even bother looking over the edge of her book when she flipped me off, which made me chuckle as my eyes automatically scanned the room for my best friend. I frowned when I didn't see her in the living room.

"Where's Britt?"

"She's in the kitchen trying to work the microwave," Gracie replied, waving absent-mindedly in the direction of said kitchen. I muttered a quick 'thanks' and went to find her sister. When I found her, she was staring intently at the microwave and I smiled at the adorable look of complete concentration on her face. She looked like a five year old trying to figure out a puzzle. The oversized t-shirt and baggy sweatpants only added to the childish image. After I observed the scene for a few seconds longer, I silently walked up behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and rested my forehead against the back of her shoulder. I smiled when I felt long fingers join mine at her waist.

"You know, the microwave works better when you actually turn it on."

"I know. I was just waiting for you," she said as she turned around to face me. "I didn't want to eat before you got here and then make you eat by yourself," she explained. "Besides," she added on as she looked down at the floor, "I forgot how long I'm supposed to put the pizza in for and I didn't want to ask Gracie. She's been busy studying."

"Well, why don't you try setting it for five minutes and, if it isn't warm enough, put it in for a little longer?" I suggested. She looked up from the floor and turned back towards the microwave. Not long after, I heard her set the timer and the steady hum of the microwave. I had learned a long time ago that Brittany liked to do things on her own so I usually stuck to giving her suggestions and allowed her to do the actual task on her own. Even though it sometimes took a few tries, it was always worth the wait to see the proud smile that lit up her face whenever she accomplished something.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" I asked as I moved away from her and leaned against the kitchen counter. Thankfully, _One Tree Hill_ wasn't an option because it was over for the season.

"_Meerkat Manor_ is on Animal Planet tonight if you don't mind watching that," she suggested while she watched the microwave heat up the leftover pizza her parents had left for us.

"Are you serious?" I asked. I arched an eyebrow when she nodded in the affirmative. "Is the Poindexter in there bribing you so you'll let her watch it? If so, I'm pretty sure I can come up with a better offer."

"No, she's not," she said and I could feel her eyes on me while she spoke. I knew better than to turn and look at her because I knew I would be putty in her hands if I did. "I just like to watch all of Timon's relatives playing with each other. Plus, meerkats are totally cute," she explained right before grabbing onto my hand that was closest to her. "Can we please watch it, San?" she quietly pleaded. I made the mistake of glancing over at her and saw the pout planted firmly on her face. Five minutes later, I was sitting in the middle of the two Pierce girls, eating leftover pizza and watching a marathon of some ridiculous show called _Meerkat Manor_ with Brittany while Gracie entertained herself with her book.

Three hours later, the last episode of the marathon ended with one of the younger meerkats being eaten by a cobra while it was out roaming the plains. Luckily, Brittany had fallen asleep against my shoulder halfway through the second episode so she didn't have to see the cruel fate nature intended for the young meerkat. Unfortunately, I was pretty sure I was going to have nightmares about snakes for the rest of my life. I grimaced at that thought and quickly turned the television off before gently nudging Brittany awake.

"Don't you think your bed will be a little more comfortable than the couch?" I asked when groggy, blue eyes finally cracked open and stared into mine. I watched as Brittany debated with herself for a moment before she nodded her head against my shoulder. "I'll go get changed and meet you in your room then," I told her as I pushed myself off the couch. Brittany got up after me and sleepily trudged down the hallway to her room. Once she was out of sight, I looked over at Gracie, who was still engrossed in her book. She must have felt my eyes on her though because she looked up from her book and stared at me from behind the lenses of her glasses.

"I'm going to stay up a little later and review this chapter. I have a test over it on Monday," she explained, reading the question on my face. I nodded my understanding and started to walk passed her so I could go change in the bathroom. I stopped when I reached the edge of the couch and hesitated before I placed a firm hand on Gracie's shoulder.

"Don't stay up too late, nerdette. I don't want you to burn yourself out again like last year," I told her. I watched a flash of disgust cross over her face when I brought up the incident she obviously wanted to forget.

"You don't have to worry about me. As stupid as the candles may seem, they do help relieve my stress," she assured me before turning her attention back to her book.

"It's not you I'm worried about," I told her, which made her look up at me again and I almost laughed at the surprised and inquisitive expression on her face. "Your sister cares about you more than you know. I don't want you to hurt her the way you did last year."

"I'm pretty sure I was the one who had the mental breakdown last year, not Brittany," Gracie reminded me and every word was tinged with irritation. I ignored her tone and continued to stare down into the eyes that were so much like Brittany's and yet so very different. While Brittany's bright blue eyes sparkled with dreams and warm compassion, Gracie's dark blue eyes were filled with cold facts and sharp intellect.

"And how do you think she felt when you locked yourself away in your bedroom and wouldn't eat anything she tried to bring you?" I asked in a hard voice that cut off any objections Gracie might have. I felt a sense of triumph when I saw a wave of guilt pass over the younger girl's face. "She was scared, Gracie. She was afraid she was going to lose her little sister and it tore her up inside because she didn't think there was anything she could do to help you," I explained. "I won't watch her go through that again just because you don't know when to call it quits," I told her before I released her shoulder and headed for the bathroom so I could change. I didn't bother looking back to see the affect my words had on her. I had given her a warning but I couldn't force her to heed to it.

After I changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and one of Brittany's t-shirts, I quietly slipped into Brittany's room. The familiar pink glow lit up her side of the room, revealing a lump under the blankets close to the wall. I smiled when I walked over to the bed and saw that she was already deep asleep. One of her arms was tucked underneath her pillow while the other was lying across the side of the bed where I would usually sleep. I shook my head at the sight before I gently lifted up her arm so I could slip beneath the blankets and curl up next to her. The sound of Brittany's steady heartbeat and the pleasant scent of her body-wash immediately overpowered my senses as I closed my eyes. The combination had the same effect as her dancing and soon I was transported to another place filled with a field of blue wildflowers.

The first thing I noticed when my eyes reluctantly opened again was that it was still dark outside but there was a faint yellow glow around the edges of the window. My brows pulled together in confusion as I tried to figure out what had woke me up. A few seconds later, the smell of something burning finally registered in my brain and I shot up to a sitting position in Brittany's bed only to break into a fit of coughs when I breathed in a lungful of smoke. Once I had control over my coughs and the panic threatening to take over my body, I looked beside me to make sure Brittany was still there. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw her long body still resting there, safe and sound. I placed a hand on her shoulder and roughly shook her awake.

"We need to get outside," I told her when her tired blue eyes opened. I didn't give her time to protest as I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the bed with me. I frantically tried to remember the lessons from elementary school the local fireman had taught us when he came to teach our class about fire safety. The only thing I could remember in my rising panic was how to stop, drop, and roll, which only applied to someone on fire; and I really hoped neither of us would have to resort to that tip.

"San, you need to crouch down." Brittany's muffled voice broke through the panic that was starting to build up in my chest again. I looked back at her to see her bent at the waist with one of her hands over her mouth to keep the smoke out. The other hand was reaching towards me and I gratefully took it before I bent down as well and started for the door. I heard Brittany whimper at the sound of the crackling fire when we opened the door and I gently squeezed her hand to comfort her before I started to lead her down the hall. Luckily, only the smoke and the overpowering sound of the fire had made it down the hall so far. We weren't so lucky when we made it to the living room.

I couldn't stop the sudden trembling that overtook me when I saw the flames covering half the living room. The couch Brittany and I had been cuddled up on just hours before was engulfed in fire and the normally green drapes that covered the windows were aglow with an angry orange and red. The flames were crawling up the walls, devouring the flowery wallpaper that covered them. I snapped out of my fear when I felt Brittany squeezing my hand and I started to walk towards the front door again; only to jerk to a stop when Brittany came to a halt.

"Where's Gracie?" she shouted. I didn't have time to answer her before she let go of my hand and quickly ran across the living room. I tried calling after her, only to have my shouts drowned out by the sound of the roaring fire. I cursed under my breath before following in Brittany's determined footsteps across the room. I found her throwing her body against the door of her parents' bedroom.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I grabbed onto the upper part of her arm to stop her from slamming against the door again. When her eyes found mine, I saw a wild desperation in those blue depths that I had never seen before. It was almost as scary as the flames starting to crawl up the walls beside us.

"Gracie likes to sleep in here when our parents are gone," she quickly explained as she wrenched her arm away from me. "She locks the door so I can't come wake her up with a tickle attack in the mornings," she added on before ramming her shoulder into the door again. My heart broke at the angry shriek she directed towards the door when it refused to budge so I took up the spot next to her and rammed my own shoulder into the door, trying to help her break it down.

Several precious minutes later, Brittany and I finally broke through the barrier that separated us from her parents' bedroom. We both fell through the door and landed on the floor in a fit of coughs. I recovered first and pulled myself up to my knees. I looked around the bedroom, relieved that the fire hadn't made it passed the door yet. I frowned, however, when I didn't see Gracie in the large bed against the wall.

"Brittany?" The small voice came from the corner hidden by the dresser next to the door. I looked over to see a small, dirty-blonde head peeking out from behind the dresser and sighed in relief. I wasted no time getting to my feet and walked over to Gracie. I pulled her up by the back of her pajama shirt and dragged her to the bedroom door where her sister was still on all fours, struggling to get back up. I bent down and hooked my arms under Brittany's so I could help her get back to her feet.

"Let's go," I commanded as I grabbed the hands of both sisters and hurried to the front door. I maneuvered us around the blazing flames in the living room and mentally sent up a grateful prayer when we reached the front door. I jumped back in surprise when I reached to open it, only to have it swing towards me, revealing a large man in a fireman's suit. He quickly ushered us out of the house and asked if anyone else was inside.

"No," I replied, wincing at the scratchiness in my voice. "Her parents are at work," I croaked as he led us over to the ambulance waiting on the street. He nodded in understanding before he left us with the paramedics, who forced oxygen masks over our mouths and draped scratchy blankets over our shoulders to fight off the cold winter air. Once the medics were sure we were okay, they took the masks off and told us they were going to call the Pierces.

While we waited for Brittany's parents to show up, I looked over at Gracie, who was staring at the fire that engulfed what used to be her home. Guilt was written all over her face as she watched the flames devour her house, sending sparks high into the sky to join the stars in the heavens. It was then that I remembered where the fire had been focused in the living room; next to the couch where Gracie had been sitting earlier that evening.

"When you went to your parents' room, did you maybe think to put out those stupid candles you were using?" I asked, unable to keep the bitter anger out of my voice as I questioned her. I could feel Brittany's disapproving eyes on me while I spoke but I ignored them for once and went to stand in front of the younger Pierce. "Why the hell would you keep them lit if you were going to bed?"

"I did put them out!" she shouted back at me as tears welled up in her dark eyes and her breathing started to quicken. "I put them out, I made sure I did. I swear, Santana." The tears that had been gathering in her eyes spilled over when I narrowed my eyes into a glare.

"Then how do you explain this?" I asked, waving my arm at the fire where her house used to be. I felt Brittany's hand on my shoulder but I shrugged it off. Gracie had nearly gotten us killed and I wasn't going to let her off easy just because she was the golden child of the family.

"I… I don't know," she admitted as she ducked her head and looked down at the snow beneath her feet. "I was tired and… and I just don't know. I remember putting them out, I know it," she insisted in a small voice. "I remember hitting my knee against the end-table on the way to the bedroom. Maybe I knocked one off and didn't notice," she suggested. I surprised both her and Brittany when I gave her a hard shove and made her collide with the ambulance.

"How the fuck do you not notice a burning candle on the floor?" I screamed at her, my voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. "It's a candle, for fucks sake!"

"San…" Brittany's hoarse voice accompanied the comforting hand that had returned to my shoulder. I didn't shake it off and instead turned my head to look over at her. Her face and arms were streaked with thick lines of ash. The patches of skin I could see were either a frighteningly pale color from her nerves or an angry red color from minor burns she had gotten from being so close to the fire. I doubted I looked any better. "I think Gracie is already scared. You don't have to add to it."

"She nearly killed us with those stupid candles, Britt," I said, as if she needed the reminder. "Then she didn't have enough sense to unlock the door for us when we were trying to get to her." I turned my gaze back to Gracie, who was still looking down at the ground in an attempt to avoid my accusing glare. I reached out and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look up at me. "Don't tell me you didn't hear us trying to break down the door to get to you. Why the hell didn't you come out? What kind of idiot just sits there and lets her sister ram herself into the door while the damn house is on fire?"

"I was scared!"

"So were we but we had enough sense to move!" I shouted back as my breathing quickened to match my angry heartbeat. Brittany pulled me over to her and held me against her chest before I could say anything else to her sister. She whispered nonsensical Dutch words into my ear that made me focus more on her rather than the angry fire that burned inside my chest. After a few minutes, my breathing returned to normal and I found myself relaxing into Brittany's embrace. By the time her parents arrived, I had calmed down considerably. I still couldn't look over at Gracie without feeling a rush of anger flood through my veins but Brittany made sure I kept my attention focused on her by keeping her arms wrapped around my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder.

"Are you girls alright?" Brittany's mother asked when she approached the three of us. She wrapped all of us into a tight hug before we had the chance to answer. I was surprised by the action; I had started to believe that Brittany's parents didn't believe in showing affection to anyone but Gracie. I was even more surprised when another pair of arms wrapped around us and I looked up to see Mr. Pierce wrapping his large arms around all of us. The hug didn't last long. Soon, her parents were pulling away and staring down at all three of us with questions on their faces.

"We're fine," Gracie spoke up and I glared in her direction. She may have been fine but Brittany and I were far from it. While she had been hidden safely away in their parents' room, we had been fighting through fire and smoke to get to her.

"What happened?" I watched as Gracie returned her gaze to the street once more to avoid her father's gaze and I felt a satisfied smirk spread across my face. For once, the Pierces were going to see that Gracie was capable of making mistakes.

"I tried cooking again and forgot about the oven." I blinked in surprise when I heard Brittany's hoarse voice instead of Gracie's. A sharp pain stabbed through my chest when I saw the disappointed expressions that appeared on the Pierces' faces as they stared at their oldest daughter. "I'm sorry," she apologized in a meek whisper. I opened my mouth to tell her parents what had really happened but Brittany must have anticipated what I was about to do because she tightened her arms around my waist, which made me turn my head back to look at her.

Even at the awkward angle, I could see the subtle shake of her head that was telling me not to say anything. She saw the question in my eyes but she didn't bother explaining what she was doing. The blank expression on her face didn't answer any of my questions either.

"We told you to heat up the leftover pizza," her father reminded her. I could hear the barely controlled anger in his voice. "They were simple instructions, Brittany. We even left you a note to remind you to make it."

"I know but I couldn't remember how to turn the microwave on."

"If you couldn't remember how to use the microwave, what on earth made you think you'd know how to use the oven?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? You almost got your sister and your friend killed and the only answer you can come up with is 'I don't know'?" I winced at the harsh tone in her father's voice and once again I tried to tell him what really happened but Brittany cut me off.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she repeated in a small voice. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Just… Just stop talking, Brittany," her father said as he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before he looked over at his wife. "I knew this was a bad idea to begin with but you just had to convince me otherwise. You told me if Santana was with her, they'd be fine."

"I thought they would be," her mother said, glancing over at her oldest daughter. "Brittany listens to Santana. I didn't think tonight would be any different. Maybe if you weren't so cheap and would actually hire a baby-sitter, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"And maybe if you actually knew how to raise a kid, we wouldn't have to worry about whether or not we're going to have a house to come back home to every time we actually have to leave them alone by themselves!" Her father's yell only led to Brittany's mother screaming at him. Soon, the argument turned into a shouting match and I felt the tall body behind me tense at the sound. I turned around and saw Brittany squeezing her eyes shut so she could block out the yelling.

"Hey," I whispered as I placed the palm of my hand against her cheek. Watery blue eyes cracked open and looked into mine. I felt my heart leap when I saw the complete trust shining in those eyes and forced a small, reassuring smile to my face. "Why don't you stay at my house until your parents cool off?" I suggested. She sniffled and nodded her head. I felt her pinky wrap around my own before I led her away from the ambulance and the fire truck that was still working to put out the last of the flames covering Brittany's house. We didn't bother telling her parents we were leaving; I doubted they would have heard us if we had. They were so busy screaming at each other in a mix of Dutch and English that they didn't notice the two of us slipping away into the night so we could walk back to my house.

The cold walk back to my house passed slowly with Brittany pressed close against me. Her taller frame and the thin blankets we had taken from the ambulance protected me from the cold wind that whipped through the night air. Our progress was occasionally halted whenever a sudden round of coughing tore through Brittany's body. She had breathed in more smoke than I had while we were trying to get to Gracie so she was still feeling the effect the smoke had on her lungs. By the time we reached the front porch to my house, we were both shivering uncontrollably from the prolonged time spent in the cold winter air and my numb fingers fought with the house key as I tried to unlock the door. I smiled when I felt Brittany's hand on mine.

"Let me do it, San," she offered in the same voice she had used back when we were nine after I had fractured my hand on some kid's face. My smile widened at the familiar tone and I handed her the key. Soon we were in the house and running up the stairs to my room. I briefly debated suggesting a shower to get the smell of smoke and fire off but the exhausted look on Brittany's face scratched that idea. Instead, we both went to my bed and crawled under the thick blankets. I rolled onto my side so I was facing her and reached out to push back a loose strand of ash-stained hair that had fallen in her face, obscuring my view of those gorgeous blue eyes I always managed to fall into.

"Brittz, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, silly," she pointed out in a soft voice. I doubted her throat could handle anything louder than the whisper at the moment and I felt guilt tugging at my heart. I should have gotten her outside and then gone back in to find Gracie. "You can ask me another one if you want, though," she said with a small smile.

"Why did you say the fire was your fault?" I almost regretted asking her when I saw the smile fall from her face but I pressed on. "You don't deserve to get in trouble for something you didn't do," I insisted.

"And my parents don't deserve to be disappointed by both of their daughters," Brittany answered in a harsh whisper. Whether it was from the ash coating her lungs or just from her trying to hold back her emotions, I couldn't tell. Either way, it hurt to hear her say it. "My parents are used to me messing up. I don't know if they could handle it if Gracie became a disappointment, too," she explained before looking down at my mattress.

"You're not a disappointment," I argued vehemently before I cupped her face in my hands and gently forced her to look up at me. For a moment, I marveled at how dark my tan skin looked against her pale face but I quickly snapped out of it. "If your parents can't see how wonderful you are, they're the ones at fault, not you," I insisted as I leaned my forehead against hers.

"Thank you, San," she whispered and I was surprised to feel wet drops falling onto my hands. "I hope you always feel that way."

"I promise my opinion of how wonderful and awesome you are will never waver," I assured her with a smile. My eyes widened when I felt soft lips suddenly cover my smile. It took me a moment to realize my best friend was kissing me. Once I got over the initial shock, I let myself relax and closed my eyes before leaning into the kiss. Unlike with Puck, the first kiss I shared with Brittany was soft and searching rather than rough and insistent. When Brittany gently insisted on deepening the kiss, I eagerly allowed it. I could taste a faint hint of smoke in the kiss but it was over-powered by a taste that I could only describe as Brittany. By the time we broke apart, we were both breathing heavily and my heart was beating significantly faster than it was while we had been escaping the house.

"You definitely don't taste like dip or my armpits," Brittany muttered as she laid her head next to mine on my pillow. Even in the dark, I could see her eyes shining with something I couldn't quite identify.

"Oh yeah?" I asked as I rolled onto my back and fought to control my breathing. "What do I taste like then?" There was silence as she thought back on the kiss and tried to figure out an answer. I was taken by surprise again when she propped herself up on her elbow, leaned over, and pressed her lips to mine for a second time. When she pulled away, she still had a thoughtful look on her face.

"I can't figure it out," she admitted with a shrug before returning her head to my pillow and resting her arm in its usual spot across my stomach. A few minutes after she whispered a quick 'goodnight', the night's events took their toll on her and she fell asleep with her face pressed against my neck. I stayed up much longer, thinking about the kiss we had shared. There was a heavy feeling pressing on my mind, giving me a headache. I recognized the feeling as regret.

I knew I didn't regret kissing Brittany; it was certainly better than kissing Puck because she didn't make it feel like a competition. I didn't regret enjoying the kiss either, despite the fact I sort of had a boyfriend. I knew for a fact that Puck cheated on me with half of the cheerleading squad so what did it matter if I cheated on him? He didn't care about me the same way the blonde laying next to me did. Thoughts of Brittany drew my gaze back to her peaceful face resting next to mine. It was in that moment that I realized what I truly regretted was that she hadn't been my first kiss and I hadn't been hers. The last thing I wondered before I fell asleep, however, was how long it would take Brittany's parents to realize she knew how to use the stove.

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**Author's Note:** So that concludes chapter 3. :D I'm not quite sure how I feel about it because it's a little heavy on the dialogue, which I have been trying to break away from. Then again, I kind of think it was necessary. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and I hope that you will all tune in for the next installment. On a different note, no actual meerkats were harmed in the production of this chapter.

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	4. Snow Angels and a Whiskey Lullaby

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Glee...  
**Author's Note: **First of all, I'd like to say I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter done. There was a massive amount of writer's block that I had to write through. I'm not really proud of this chapter because it seems like it is mostly filler. Fluffy filler, but filler none-the-less. Still, it feels good to finally have it finished. Hopefully, this will be the only chapter I don't like. On another note, thank you all for the kind reviews :) They make my heart smile.

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The morning after the fire, I awoke to the smell of pancakes and the sound of pans clanging together, followed by my mother's voice swearing in Spanish. The warm, reassuring weight of Brittany's lithe body was still pressed against my side and I smiled when the sound of her soft breathing echoed in my ear. A low hum of pleasure resonated in my chest as I carefully stretched out the kinks in my sore muscles. My shoulder ached from ramming it against the door the night before and there was a slight stinging in my fingers, which I discovered was caused by angry red blisters that marred my usually perfect skin. I found myself mentally cursing Gracie and her stupidity for the hundredth time. Still, we were alive and relatively unscathed; and for that, I would be eternally grateful.

"You sound like a cat." Brittany's sleepy whisper made me turn my head to the side where I found a lightly freckled, ash-covered face studying my own. "It's kind of cute," she remarked with a light giggle, which made me shake my head and return my gaze to the ceiling. I could still feel her eyes focusing on my face though and I suddenly remembered the way those same eyes had been looking at me after the kiss we shared. I quickly found myself fighting off a blush that was threatening to creep up my face. I was Santana Lopez and Santana Lopez did not blush because of a kiss; especially not one that was so… sweet.

"I feel like crap," I blurted as I tried to push the kiss and the feelings it inflamed to the back of my mind; feelings I was not ready to deal with at thirteen. "What about you?"

"My arm hurts and my throat is all scratchy," Brittany admitted before falling into a thoughtful silence. A few seconds later, I felt the weight shift on her side of the bed. Suddenly, her face was hovering over mine and there was a frantic look in her eyes. "Do you think it turned into sandpaper?" she asked.

"No," I assured her as I placed a hand on her cheek and started to rub my thumb over her skin, trying to ease the worry I had heard in her voice. "I'm sure your throat will be fine in a couple of days. My dad will give you something to help it get better faster," I promised. I waited a few more moments to make sure she understood she was going to be alright before I pulled my hand away from her cheek. The traces of grey ash clinging to my dark fingertips made a wave of memories from the night before take over my thoughts. For one quick second, all I could see in my mind was Brittany struggling to stand as fire started to flare up around her. My chest tightened at the memory and my stomach dropped as an unfamiliar stinging sensation started in my eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," I lied in a shaky voice as I turned onto my side to avoid her curious gaze. I had fiercely clamped my eyes shut to keep the unexpected and unwelcome tears at bay when I felt Brittany's long, slender fingers on the side of my face, insisting that I turn to look at her. I struggled against the impulse to obey her but it was a futile attempt and I quickly found myself staring into her bright, blue eyes again. I watched those eyes search my face before she released a sigh.

"You're lying," she pointed out and I didn't have the heart to deny it. Luckily, I was saved when my mother knocked on my bedroom door. After she poked her head in my room and told us she had made breakfast, I threw the blankets off of us and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I had every intention of standing up when Brittany's hand wrapped itself around my wrist and gently pulled me back onto the mattress. She didn't say anything as she sat up and wrapped her arms around me, silently persuading me to rest my forehead against her chest. The lingering smell of smoke was still clinging to the fabric of her baggy t-shirt; and to my horror, it was the final straw that made the dam behind my eyes break.

"I almost lost you, Britt," I sobbed into her chest as my hands tightly gripped the hem of her shirt. "If I hadn't woken up last night..." The rest of that thought died in my throat and another sob overtook me. My body shook as I tried to regain control of myself and my breaths were coming in ragged, painful gasps as my emotions fought to be released. It was as if my brain was at war with my heart and my body was the only thing suffering the consequences. The entire time I cried though, I felt Brittany's hand running through my hair in an attempt to calm me.

"I'm right here, San. Listen." The simple command was followed by Brittany's hand tilting my head to the side so my ear was pressed to her chest. In between the painful sobs that wracked my body, I was able to hear a reassuring heartbeat thudding against her chest; I used the sound as a lifeline. Soon, my breathing started to even out and I was able to open my eyes again without tears pouring out of them. When I finally gathered the courage to look up from Brittany's shirt, I found that she was smiling at me. "You didn't lose me," she pointed out before leaning forward and kissing me on the forehead. It was then that I realized half of my body was pressed against her torso and I quickly apologized for crushing her as I pulled away.

"Can we maybe go get cleaned off now? We both still look like we played in a volcano," I asked as I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. My answer was a quick peck on the cheek before Brittany rolled out of my bed and headed for the door. I stared after her for a moment, still stunned by the display of affection, before I shook my head and got out of bed. I joined the smiling blonde at the door and raced her out of my bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom.

Thankfully, the rest of that morning went by without any more weepy incidents involving emotions. Instead, the two of us spent the early hours of the morning in my family's entertainment room watching Disney movies with my mother, who had started working from home once she had earned her law degree and became a corporate lawyer. My mother was reviewing case files at the wooden office desk pressed up against the wall next to the glass entertainment stand. Every so often, she would lean back in her office chair and glance at the television screen to see what was going on in whatever movie was playing. Brittany and I were curled up on the brown, leather couch underneath a black and brown quilt my abuela had made me for Christmas that year. Brittany's head was resting on my shoulder while _Lilo & Stitch_ held her complete attention. Well, almost complete attention anyway.

Underneath the quilt, I could feel a slender finger tracing circles and figure eights through the fabric of my jeans just above my knee, successfully distracting me from the movie. Whenever I glanced over at Brittany though, her eyes were glued to the television screen and she was totally engrossed in the antics of the little Hawaiian girl and her pet alien. She seemed completely oblivious to the trail her finger was blazing over my leg. However, _I_ was so distracted by the wandering hand on my leg that I didn't notice the movie was over until Brittany whispered in my ear.

"San, do you think we could go for a walk?" I snapped out of my preoccupied thoughts when I felt more than heard Brittany's question. Once I was able to pull my attention away from the hand on my knee, I noticed the credits were rolling across the television screen and I vaguely wondered how long ago the movie had ended. "I kind of want to stretch my legs," she explained when I took longer than usual to answer.

"Sure, Brittz," I finally said when I realized she was staring at me with an expectant look on her face. "Just be sure to grab your jacket this time," I reminded her. She answered me with a sheepish grin before getting up from the couch and going to find the jacket she usually kept at my house. We had begun to keep a coat and several other articles of clothing at our house for her when her visits turned into an everyday occurrence. It was simply easier to have clothes ready for her rather than expecting her to remember to bring a change of clothing over. During the winter, it was actually better that we kept clothes for her because sometimes she would dress as if it were spring or summer.

Calendars were a foreign concept to Brittany and the one time I had tried to show her how to use one, she got distracted by the pictures of kittens that decorated the calendar and ended up scribbling in the boxes with an assortment of colors. I had only been able to laugh and shake my head at her actions. Later that night, my parents had found us both sleeping on the living room floor surrounded by markers and covered in various colors of the rainbow. Ever since then, I had decided it wasn't really necessary for her to know how to use a calendar as long as she had me around to remind her when it was winter.

"Honey, I think Brittany is ready to go." My mother's voice pulled me out of the pleasant memory and I looked up to see Brittany bouncing in place as she waited for me by the door to the entertainment room. The look on her face reminded me of an impatient puppy yearning to escape to the freedom of the outdoors; it was adorable and I found myself taking my time getting up just so I could keep seeing the impatient pout on her face. After I grabbed my own coat from the closet next to the entertainment room, I let Brittany lead the way out of the house.

"Fuck!" I hissed when the cold air and blinding snow greeted us as soon as we walked through the front door. I pulled my jacket tighter against my skin in an attempt to trap more heat against my body and block out the cold breeze as I followed Brittany down the icy streets. The blonde seemed immune to the cold that had already begun to sink into my bones. While I tried to shrink into my jacket, Brittany greeted the frigid air like an old friend. In return, the air gently kissed her skin, bringing a rosy color to her usually pale cheeks while she gracefully skipped ahead of me. As I watched her dance with the slowly falling snowflakes, I was reminded how much smarter Brittany was than myself or anyone I had ever known.

She never seemed to worry about money or social status and she viewed the world with a child-like sense of wonder. It was as if she was in tune with the voice of the universe and could see the world for the beautiful thing that it was meant to be. I had lost that ability at a young age and the only time I could hear the familiar whisper of that inaudible voice was when I was close to her. I lost whatever train of thought I was on when my foot suddenly connected with a surface that was more slippery than the usual concrete of the sidewalk and I quickly found myself flailing my arms to stop myself from falling backwards. Brittany's quick reflexes saved me from an embarrassing and painful landing when her hand wrapped around my wrist and held me up.

"Thanks," I muttered once I regained my balance. I glowered at the patch of ice under my feet that had nearly caused a disaster. When I brought my eyes back up to my surroundings, I noticed that rundown factory buildings had suddenly sprung up beside us while we had walked and I felt familiar chills crawling up my spine. My brow furrowed in confusion and I looked over at Brittany for some sort of explanation.

"I just want to see what's left," she answered with a shrug as she started to walk again. I followed her movements with my eyes for a few seconds, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. It wasn't long before I gave up trying to guess why she would want to see the burned-out ruins of her house. I sighed and started to walk behind her, trying to ignore the way my heartbeat picked up as we walked deeper into the slums. Even after all of the visits I had made to Brittany's house in the last four years, the rundown neighborhood still managed to freak me out more than I cared to admit.

"Brittz… I don't know if you'll like what you're going to find when you get back there," I said as I caught up with her longer strides and started to walk beside her. My only answer was a quick side-long glance before she returned her determined gaze to the path in front of her. I resigned myself to her decision and pushed down the bubble of anxiety that was beginning to form in my chest as I quickened my pace to match hers. I figured the sooner we got the visit to her house done with, the sooner we could go back to my entertainment room and the safety it offered.

When we reached the remnants of Brittany's house, I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder at the warehouse that was across the street; I knew it was still standing there, blanketed in snow but no worse off than it had been the first time I had spent the night in it. Instead, I focused my attention on the hollow shell of wood and concrete that used to be Brittany's home. I mentally winced at the sight of the broken windows and the charred wood that had once been covered in faded green paint. Outwardly though, I kept a neutral expression on my face and stepped closer to Brittany, who was standing in front of the door that led into her house. I gave her a reassuring smile when I felt her pinky wrap around mine. She seemed to take courage from the smile and gently pushed open the front door; only to have it crash to the floor.

"Oops," Brittany muttered before she cautiously stepped through the doorway into what was left of her living room. I silently walked beside her and watched as she wandered around the room. She never walked into the middle of the living room where the couch sat, a charred and torn shadow of its former self. Instead, she stayed close to the walls and calmly inspected the damage done to the rest of the room from a safe distance. Occasionally, she would reach out with her free hand and run it along the wall beside us, flinching whenever her fingers snagged on the scorched wallpaper that was beginning to peel from the wood. We hurried passed the open door that led into her parents' room when we reached it; neither one of us wanted to see what the fire had made of it. When we finally reached the hallway that led down to her bedroom, I felt a jerk on my pinky as Brittany came to a sudden halt. I looked back at the taller girl and, for the first time, saw the fear that was written on her face.

"You've come this far. Might as well get the rest of it over with," I told her as I gave a gentle, encouraging tug on her hand. She hesitantly stepped forward into the hallway, her eyes scanning the damage done to the walls and floor as she walked. Each step down the hall seemed to embolden her and, by the time we reached the end of the hallway, the fear that had been etched across her face had been replaced by firm resolve and she didn't hesitate to open the door to her room. I heard a soft sigh escape the blonde's lips as she took in the sight that greeted us.

The bed we had spent so many nights cuddling on was burned beyond recognition and the pink paint that covered the walls was stained black from the smoke. Shards of glass from her window littered the burnt mattress and the floor. The only traces of the drawings and photographs that had adorned the walls were the streaks of grey left behind by their ashes. Brittany stepped further into the room and tried to get a closer look at the damage done to her room, glass crunching beneath her feet as she walked across the floor. I patiently waited by the door for her to finish the inspection of the room, smiling when she returned to my side.

"Did you see what you needed to see?" I asked. She nodded in response before she slipped her hand around mine and led me down the hall once more. When we got back to the living room, she didn't head for the front door. Instead, she went through the door that led to the kitchen. It was the only room that hadn't been touched by the fire but Brittany didn't seem to care. The only thing she seemed focused on was the door across the room that led to her backyard. Once we walked through it, she made a beeline for the spot she had found me laying in four years ago and knelt down on the ground. I watched as she dug through the snow for a few seconds, wondering what in the world she could be trying to find, before I rolled my eyes and trudged over to her side.

"Brittz, what are you doing?" I asked as I reluctantly crouched down beside her. I shivered when I felt the cold rising up from the snow. I briefly wondered how the blonde girl was able to kneel in the freezing substance as if it was nothing more than sand.

"I want to make sure it's still here," she answered, not taking her determined gaze off the snow she was shoveling away from the area. I was about to ask what in the world she was talking about when her excited squeal interrupted me before I could open my mouth. "Look, San!" she shouted as she turned and shoved a worn, wooden duck in my line of sight. The paint had begun to chip and fade years ago but it was easy to see that it was the same purple duck I had clutched to my chest for some sense of comfort when I was a scared nine year old completing a dare. "I bet the unicorn protected it from the fire," Brittany mused as she hugged the wooden decoration to her chest.

"I'm sure it did," I agreed as I straightened to my full height once more. Brittany followed suit, keeping the wooden bird close to her heart. "Ready to go back to my house? I'm freezing my ass off," I asked as I wrapped my arms around myself in an attempt to restore some of the heat that had escaped into the air. Suddenly, a long arm reached out and pulled me in close to Brittany's body, which seemed to radiate warmth.

"Thank you for coming with me," she told me in a low whisper as she rested her cheek on the top of my head. The smell of lavender body-wash flooded my senses as I returned the embrace. It wasn't the first time Brittany had ever hugged me; Brittany hugged almost everyone and everything. I had once seen her hugging a lamp post because 'it looked lonely'. There was something in her voice, however, which made me take a small step back and tilt my head up towards her. For the third time in twenty-four hours, I was taken by surprise when she gently captured my lips with her own. I wasted no time in returning the gesture and before I knew it, my hand was resting on the back of her neck, trying to bring her closer to me.

I didn't see fireworks when we kissed. However, I did manage to catch a brief glimpse of the way the world was supposed to be seen; the way Brittany saw it. I didn't feel some sort of spark between us either. It was more like a series of small explosions beneath my skin that somehow managed to make me feel complete and unraveled at the same time. We broke away from each other, both of us breathing heavily, when we heard the soft thud of the wooden duck landing in the snow.

"Thank you again," she said in a breathless voice before she bent down to retrieve the wooden duck she had dropped. All I could do was stare as she brushed the snow off the wooden bird and tucked it into her winter coat. My brain was still trying to comprehend that my best friend had kissed me for the third time; that I had returned the kiss for the third time; that my best friend was a girl; and that my best friend looked absolutely beautiful with the snow clinging to her hair. I didn't have much time to dwell on those thoughts though because the sound of Brittany's mom calling her name made us both look towards the front yard.

"Brittany, are you here? Your dad and I have been looking for you all morning and Mrs. Lopez said you went for a walk with Santana." I could have laughed at the surprised look on the blonde's face if it weren't so heart-breaking that she was shocked her parents were looking for her. Long moments passed before Brittany decided to call out to her parents so they would know where we were. It wasn't long before the two adults had joined us in the backyard. By the time they reached us, Brittany and I had put a little bit of distance between us so it didn't look like we had been doing anything wrong; like kissing.

"There you are, honey!" Brittany's mother was the first to close the distance between herself and her daughter. She wrapped the tall blonde in a hug as soon as she reached her and Brittany awkwardly returned the embrace. Her face was the perfect picture of confusion when her mom didn't try to end the physical contact as quickly as possible.

"Are you confusing me with Gracie?" Brittany asked as she finally pulled herself free of her mom's grip, only to have her father place a large hand on her shoulder. I watched as she took a step backwards, successfully escaping his grasp. Her parents glanced at one another with similar confused expressions before turning back to Brittany.

"No..." her dad said as he shoved his hands into his pockets, obviously unsure of what to do with them since his oldest daughter had rejected him. He looked over at his wife with a pleading expression on his face.

"The firemen told us where the fire started, Brittany. Then your sister broke down and told us what really happened on the way to your Auntie Hanna's house," her mother explained as she reached out to press her hand against Brittany's cheek. I could see the blonde tense at the contact and I felt a burst of anger towards her parents; they were giving her too much. They couldn't just ignore Brittany for thirteen years and then expect her to welcome their sudden displays of affection with open arms. "Why did you lie to us last night?"

"I don't know," Brittany replied as her foot drew circles in the snow. "I guess I was confused." I knew her parents didn't believe the lie but they didn't push her to explain. Instead, her mother pulled her hand away and let it rest on her husband's forearm. I was torn between being relieved that her parents weren't going to force her to talk about it and angry that they didn't care enough about her reasons to push her to tell the truth.

"Honey, we wanted to tell you we're sorry for getting so upset with you last night," her mother said as she glared at her husband. "If we had known you hadn't started the fire, we wouldn't have… Well, we wouldn't have acted the way we did," she finished lamely, which made me ball my hands into fists. I couldn't believe that was all the older woman could come up with. I could have come up with a better apology and I never apologized for anything.

"It's okay," Brittany said with a shrug but I could tell by the droop of her shoulders that it wasn't. Her mother smiled at the response though, apparently oblivious to the effect her words had on her daughter.

"Good. Now, why don't you and Santana go wait in the car and we'll give you both a ride back to her house?" her mother suggested. Brittany looked over at me for some kind of answer and I shrugged in response. As much as I despised her parents, it was cold outside and I wasn't looking forward to walking home in the snow.

"Okay," she finally replied in a small voice before she linked her pinky with mine and led me to the front yard where her family's dented, grey mini-van waited by the sidewalk. Soon, we were seated in the backseat of the van, trying not to focus on the oppressive silence that filled the vehicle since the radio didn't work. I was resting my head on Brittany's shoulder while she gazed out the window. It killed me to see the sadness buried in those blue eyes so I did the only thing I could think of and trailed my finger along the top of her hand to distract her from her thoughts. I knew I was successful when a small smile slowly spread across her face. I found myself easily mirroring the expression for the rest of the ride back to my house.

When Brittany's parents dropped us off, they followed us to the front door and thanked my mother for watching over their spacey daughter all night. My mother looked confused even as she told them it was no problem and told them goodbye. I could feel her questioning gaze following us as Brittany and I slipped away to the entertainment room again so we could resume our Disney movie marathon; and so I could take my mind off the strange lightness that was expanding in my chest every time I thought about the kiss Brittany and I had shared in the snow. While I enjoyed the sensation, I knew there was something wrong in feeling it and that knowledge brought on a dull but constant headache. I found it easier to simply push those feelings down so I didn't have to think about them anymore. In fact, I made sure I never had to think about the feelings evoked by what Brittany and I had done.

After that day in the ruins of her house, we never talked about the kisses that we shared. It was a topic I refused to discuss and whenever we would start to approach the subject, I would quickly take control over the conversation and steer it in a completely different direction. Every time I avoided the topic, Brittany would stare at me with a slight pout on her face and I could see the curiosity swirling in the depths of those light blue eyes. I often found myself avoiding the inquisitive stare and hoping it would go away if I ignored it.

I knew she wanted to discuss the kisses and what they meant to me –for us- but I knew if we talked about them, I would be acknowledging that they were real. After learning what the words 'fag' and 'gay' meant when I met Kurt Hummel in seventh grade, owning up to the kisses and the feelings behind them was not something I could do. Every time I thought about the words and the torment associated with them, I would become physically ill. Luckily, by the time high school started, Brittany had given up on trying to broach the topic. Apparently, trying to memorize the way to her classes pushed out any lingering thoughts she may have had about our kisses.

My own mind was preoccupied as well and, eventually, the kisses were pushed away to the back corner of my thoughts. Instead, I focused on getting Brittany and I to the top of the social ladder in our new environment, which wasn't nearly as difficult as I thought it was going to be. Even though none of the upper-classmen cared that I had beat up Puck when we were six or that I had spent a week in the slums of Lima when I was nine, they did notice my talent when it came to cheerleading. More importantly, one infamous Sue Sylvester took notice of my talent and put me on the varsity cheerleading squad beside Brittany and Quinn.

Our popularity skyrocketed simply by donning the cheer uniform. It didn't matter that we weren't at the very top of the pyramid; the red and white skirt and top proved that we had accomplished something only a select few in the school could. We were a part of the school's elite class and no one dared to mess with us. It didn't matter if we skipped classes or threw slushies on an unsuspected Rachel Berry or Kurt Hummel. Sylvester made sure that every staff member of the high school knew that if they tried to touch any one of her Cheerios, they were in for a world of pain. We were practically untouchable. Then again, our popularity and its perks came with a heavy price that came in the form of a psychotic cheer coach. The pain that Sylvester threatened the rest of the school with was far from a threat to her cheer squad. She demanded perfection and went to extreme lengths to get it. Sue's Master Cleanse was only one of the forms of torture that Brittany, Quinn, and I had to get used to in order to keep our spot on the squad.

The Master Cleanse with a healthy side of suicides were the only things we had for breakfast each morning. Lunch was another helping of the Master Cleanse and a trip to the school's weight room. We spent hours after school being told we were all a waste of skin and that we were worthless pieces of trash. Coach Sylvester's cure for any imperfections in our performances was always the same; several doses of push-ups and crunches. It was a rare occurrence when I managed to get home before eight in the evening.

Despite the hatred I harbored towards our coach though, there was a tinge of respect mixed in with it and I would do anything to make her feel the same towards me. It was the idea that maybe I could make her see something in me that she couldn't find in anyone else that made Cheerios practice bearable. Well, that, and the fact that Brittany always there beside me, offering quiet encouragement every time I was ready to falter. By the end of our first semester of high school, my mind was cluttered with complex cheer routines rather than thoughts of sweet kisses stolen in the snow or late at night. In fact, it wasn't until the summer after our freshmen year that I thought about those kisses again when Puck invited Brittany and me to a party at the house of one of his idiot football friends.

It was an 'End-of-the-School-Year' bash and it was strictly 'invite only'. I showed up hanging on Puck's arm like the model girlfriend I was supposed to be. Puck was wearing a black wife-beater that left very little to imagination about the sculpted muscle beneath it and a simple pair of acid-wash jeans. The usual confident smirk was plastered on his face as we walked up to the house arm in arm. The bass from the stereo assaulted my ears as we stepped through the door but I quickly assimilated to the sound and scanned the crowd of sweating, writhing bodies for a familiar blonde. I frowned when I could only find Quinn, who was attempting to dance with her boyfriend, Finn.

"Go get wasted. I'm going to go talk to Quinn," I told Puck as I pulled away from his arm.

"As if I need your permission, babe," he replied with a grin before leaving me to find the beer keg. I glared at his back as he headed for the kitchen before I went to join Quinn and Finn.

"It looks like your boy-toy could use a few dance lessons, Sister Holier-Than-Thou," I shouted over the pounding music and the rowdy crowd. The blonde narrowed her dark brown eyes in my direction but didn't pull away from Finn.

"And it looks like yours could use a few lessons in self-control," she retorted as her eyes traveled over me. I ignored the judgement I could feel in her gaze. I knew she didn't approve of the white tube-top I had chosen to wear or the black leather jacket I wore over it.

"You're lucky I wore the jacket over this or your boyfriend would need a few lessons in self-control, too," I pointed out, almost laughing at the ire burning in Quinn's eyes when she turned her head to glare at her boyfriend. Finn stood there with an apologetic and fearful expression on his face as he tried to assure Quinn that she didn't have to worry about him straying from her side. "Have you seen B?" I interrupted when I tired of listening to Finn talk about how hot he thought Quinn was.

"She's in the kitchen. Your boyfriend isn't the only one who is getting an early start tonight," Quinn answered with a shrug after she shushed Finn. "She started on the whiskey a couple hours ago and drained Mexico of its Tequila and Corona when she was done with that," she explained with blatant disapproval lacing her voice. "Last I knew, she was dancing on a table and screaming that she wanted a unicorn to take her to Rainbow City," she added as she turned back to her boyfriend and rested her forehead against his shoulder. I rolled my eyes at the sight of the sappy couple before I turned on my heel and headed for the kitchen.

I found my elusive blonde friend dancing on the two wooden tables that had been pushed together for beer pong. The game had long been forgotten and everyone's attention was on the show Brittany was putting on for her audience. Her blonde hair was wild and her bangs were plastered to her forehead with what I assumed was sweat. Dollar bills were sticking out from the waist band of her jean shorts, which tightly hugged her defined thighs as she dipped and twisted. She was swinging a blue, button-up dress shirt around her while she danced across the tabletops; I assumed it was hers since she was mysteriously topless aside from the black bra covering her chest. When I realized I was staring, I forced myself to avert my gaze to something safer; like my boyfriend, who was shamelessly sticking a twenty down my best friend's pants.

"Santana!" I smiled when I heard her squeal my name before she jumped off the tables, signaling that the show was over. There was a collective groan from the crowd of guys that had been watching. "San, I was wondering when you would get here," she said as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a close hug. I could smell the heavy scent of alcohol on her skin as I returned the embrace. When she pulled away from me, her eyes were glassy and she was swaying slightly. It looked as if it was taking an enormous amount of effort for her to focus on me and stand at the same time.

"Perfection takes time, Brittz," I told her with a shrug.

"Hannah Montana thinks that no one is perfect," she argued before she became thoughtful. Well, as thoughtful as a drunk Brittany could get. "She hasn't met you though. You're always perfect. And hot." Her ramblings caused a couple of the guys to hoot and holler around us and I rolled my eyes.

"Thanks," I said, receiving a bright smile and another tight hug in response. I heard Puck yell, 'Touch her boobs!' and I aimed a menacing glare in his direction. Before I could tell him to shut his mouth though, I felt a wandering hand traveling under my jacket and doing exactly what he had suggested. I turned my attention back to Brittany and found her grinning guiltily at me. She didn't bother moving her hand from my chest though and the hollers started up again, louder than before.

"You want to give them something to really celebrate?" I asked as a devilish grin spread across my face. I received an enthusiastic nod in response so I reached down and took Brittany's stray shirt from the hand that wasn't resting on my chest. I brought it up and slung it over the back of her neck so that it hung over her shoulders like a scarf. She smiled at me when I gripped both ends of the shirt with my hands and used it to pull her face closer to mine.

There was a slight moment of hesitation before I closed the distance between us and crushed my lips against hers. I could taste the intense flavor of alcohol on her breath and it was a miracle I didn't get drunk just from proximity. The kiss was tame for about three seconds before I felt Brittany gently nipping at my lower lip, silently asking for permission to deepen the kiss. The loud and excited screams from the group of guys drowned out the moan that escaped when I granted her permission and her tongue slid over mine. Her hand had traveled from my chest to my hip bone and I found myself involuntarily leaning in to the touch. When we pulled away, the guys were giving each other high fives but I wasn't really paying attention to them anymore. I was more focused on the sparkling blue eyes that were trying to concentrate on my own.

"Have I ever told you your eyes look like chocolate?" Brittany asked in a loud whisper as she leaned forward. At first, I thought she was trying to kiss me again but then I realized she was simply having trouble keeping her balance. If I hadn't been hanging onto the shirt I had hung over her shoulders, she would have fallen backwards soon after our kiss. Apparently, Quinn hadn't been lying; Brittany had started drinking long before I had shown up and it was beginning to catch up with her.

"I'm pretty sure I've heard you tell me that before," I answered with a small smile as I reached down and grabbed onto her hand. I had planned on leading her out to the couch in the living room but that plan was made more difficult when she insisted on resting her forehead on my shoulder. I practically had to drag her out of the kitchen and into the living room. After I cleared off a couch with a well placed glare, I sat down and brought Brittany with me. I gently guided the blonde so she was lying down with her head on my lap. Once I was sure she was comfortable, I covered her up with the shirt she had removed earlier so no one else could stare at her topless form. Then I took my jacket off and folded it underneath her head so she could use it as a pillow.

"I missed your lady kisses, San," Brittany admitted in a sleepy voice as she rolled onto her side and pressed her face against the exposed skin of my stomach. I tried to ignore the hot breath against my skin and responded by running my hand through the damp locks of blonde hair, trying to coax Brittany into sleep. When I felt her breathing even out, I leaned my head back and stared up at the ceiling. Part of me wondered how the first high school party I had ever attended had turned into me watching over Brittany while she lay passed out on the couch. Another part of me was wondering if Brittany had missed my 'lady kiss' as much as I had missed hers and why it even mattered to me.

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**Author's Note:** And so ends chapter 4 of Lets Be Unicorns Today. Like I said, it isn't my best chapter so far but hey... Now I can move on to the more interesting/fun stuff that I have been dying to get to! :D


	5. What Are Friends For?

**Author's Note:** I sincerely apologize for the long wait before I updated. There was this massive stress block in my brain that stopped me from accessing my creativity pool. Then, once I finally started to get into the swing of writing again, I started a new job that leaves me way drained and very little time for writing. Enough excuses though. I tried to make up for the unplanned sabbatical in this chapter with both the length and the content.

**More Important Author's Note:** I would like to dedicate this chapter to Nova Forever as a birthday present. I know it's a little late but hey... better late than never, right? I hope you enjoy this chapter and that you had a happy birthday. I also hope you did well on your finals. :)

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The first thing I noticed the morning after the party was the distinct sensation of someone running a finger across my neck, creating a trail of goose-bumps starting from behind my ear to my shoulder and back up again. I groaned and tried to pull away from the touch that was insistent on waking me up, only to become aware of the tight muscles in the back of my neck. I muttered a curse under my breath at the sudden pain before I reluctantly opened my eyes.

It took me a moment to register that I was not in the comfort of my own bedroom. Instead, I was sitting on a worn, grey couch that reeked of booze and a scent I preferred to leave unidentified. I wasn't surprised to see my peers passed out on the living room floor due to an overload of alcohol consumption. The only other conscious person was the girl who was tracing a pattern against my skin.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I tried to rub away any lingering grogginess that was left in my eyes. I looked down when I felt the finger on my neck momentarily stop its trek across my skin. I found that Brittany had rolled onto her back during the night and was now staring up at me with amusement sparkling in her blue eyes.

"Waking you up," she replied in a voice that suggested the answer was fairly obvious. "You looked like you were having a bad dream," she explained before I could voice the question.

"Oh," was the only verbal response I could come up with. Luckily, the rare, grateful smile I gave her was enough for the blonde. She eagerly returned it with a bright grin of her own before she sat up and tried to bring some semblance of order to her appearance. She poked the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on getting her shirt back on with the right side out; she didn't even bother trying to button it back up once she had it on right. I chuckled at the grimace that crossed her face when she attempted to run a hand through her hair, only to find the previous night's activities had left it a tangled mess. "That's what you get for starting the party without me last night," I admonished as I easily tied my own dark tresses into a manageable ponytail.

"It wasn't my fault, San," she pouted as she tried to get a particularly nasty knot out of the long strands. She groaned and leaned back with her arms crossed over her chest when her hair refused to cooperate with her. "People kept giving me cups and they told me it was just flavored water. I didn't know it was alcohol until Quinn yelled at me for breaking our vow of insolence."

"Abstinence," I gently corrected her as I tried to fight back a sudden surge of anger towards our classmates. Although it wasn't the first time our peers had used Brittany's naïveté to their advantage while I wasn't around, it still hurt to know I couldn't always protect my best friend from those who would use her trusting nature against her. It didn't help matters that I kept thinking about the repercussions of an inebriated Brittany that could have happened if I hadn't shown up at all. If my peers were willing to take advantage of a sober Brittany's trust, they wouldn't hesitate to do something more serious to a drunken Brittany.

"Yeah, abstinence," she said as she nodded her head, thankfully tearing me away from the dark path my thoughts were leading me down. "I didn't know they made flavored water with alcohol in it," she remarked with her head cocked curiously to the side. She had a genuinely thoughtful expression on her face, as if she was trying to remember if she had ever seen alcoholic, flavored water before.

"They don't, Brittany," I told her before I placed a hand against her cheek and made her look at me. I waited until I was sure I had all of her attention before I started talking again. "From now on, don't drink anything someone gives you at a party unless I'm around," I told her in a firm voice. My eyes never left hers as I spoke; I wanted to make sure she knew I was serious. I didn't look away until she nodded her head and smiled.

"Good," I said as I got to my feet and pulled her up with me. She swayed for a moment and clamped her eyes shut as she tried to regain her bearings. "You better hope that hangover goes away before you have to dance today. Your instructor isn't going to take it easy on you just because the room won't stop spinning when you do," I said in a teasing voice. Brittany narrowed her eyes in an attempt to glare at me, only to have it turn into a pout when I laughed at the foreign expression on her face.

Once I was sure she was steady, I led the way around the sea of slumbering teenagers who had sprawled themselves out across the living room floor. I spotted my boyfriend curled up amongst them wearing a lopsided pair of glasses I didn't recognize and hugging an empty beer bottle to his chest. I rolled my eyes at the sight before opening the front door and leading Brittany outside, where we were greeted by the warm spring air.

I wasn't surprised when Brittany's pinky wrapped itself around my own as we walked down the familiar streets of Lima's suburbs in a comfortable silence. The action had become so familiar that I felt incomplete whenever the touch was missing. Sometimes, if I had been away from Brittany for too long, I would find myself reaching out to link with a hand that wasn't there.

"So," I started, breaking the silence that had enveloped us, "do you remember who kept giving you drinks last night?" I asked as I tried to keep my mind off of my body's irritating habit of seeking out Brittany on its own. I also wanted to know whose ass I would be kicking in the near future. There was no way I was going to let people think they could get Brittany drunk whenever I wasn't around to protect her.

"Um… There was that Max kid from our history class and that creepy kid with the afro," she recalled as her brow wrinkled in concentration. "I think they were the only two but thinking about last night makes my brain go all fuzzy," she admitted with a shrug.

"I don't even want to know how Jew-Fro got into that party," I muttered under my breath as I made a mental note to beat Jacob and Max from History Class into a pulp the next time I saw them. "I'm sure the fuzziness will go away once you get the rest of the alcohol out of your system."

"Well, not everything is fuzzy," she said as she absently kicked a pebble into the street. "I remember you being sexy."

"Brittz, I'm no stranger to sexy so you're going to have to be a little more specific," I told her with a low chuckle as I leaned into her side and rested my head against her shoulder while we walked. She nodded her head as if she agreed with me but she seemed hesitant to continue. "C'mon, B. What else do you remember?" I asked in a playful voice, wondering if she remembered dancing on the tables or people shoving money in her shorts while she danced.

"You kissing me in front of everybody in the kitchen."

I almost jerked to a stop when she told me she remembered the kiss. Luckily, I was able to over-ride my initial reaction and I kept walking as if her admission hadn't affected me. If she noticed me slightly stumble over my feet, she didn't say anything about it. Instead, she looked at me with an expectant expression on her face; as if she was waiting for some kind of explanation for what happened last night.

"Girls make out with each other at parties all the time. It's a way to get people to notice you," I told her with a certainty I didn't feel as I pulled myself away from her long frame and released her pinky. "Besides, you've kissed me before; it's nothing new for us," I reminded her in a nonchalant voice as I reached behind my head and adjusted my already perfect ponytail.

"Yeah, but you never let us talk about it so I thought… Well, I thought maybe you didn't like it so I didn't do it anymore," she pointed out with a soft, dejected sigh. A bright smile broke across her face though, as she said, "It felt like the one time I got tazered at the mall but in a good way."

"Hold up," I told her as I came to a halt. Brittany proved that almost four years of dance lessons had paid off when she stopped mid-stride and spun her body so she was facing me without falling on her ass. For a moment, the wind created by the spin caught the hem of her unbuttoned shirt and I found myself staring at the toned muscles the move revealed. "First of all," I said as I yanked my gaze away from her torso and focused on her face, which only made the butterflies in my stomach flutter to life when I got caught up in her sky-blue eyes, "there is no good way to get tazered."

"But, San, I just meant-"

"Second of all, it was just a stupid kiss. I saw a chance to get noticed and I took it," I told her with conviction. The butterflies that had been flittering away in my stomach were shredded by claws of guilt when the smile on her face fell and her bright eyes clouded over. I ignored the ache, however, and pushed forward. "Plus, judging by how drunk you were last night, I think what you felt and what you _think_ you felt is way off."

"I don't." The two words were said so quietly that I thought I had been hearing things at first. The way she ducked her head to avoid my gaze, however, made me realize I hadn't imagined them. I stared at the top of her head for a moment before I released a sigh and placed my hand beneath her chin. I made her look at me, only to have her quickly turn her body away; but not before I caught the unmistakable glimmer of tears building up in her eyes.

"Brittany-" I was interrupted by a quiet sniffle that made my insides twist into a knot. I bit my lower lip as I warred with myself over what to do. Part of me was screaming that I should ignore Brittany's feelings and protect the future of my reputation. I needed to put a stop to whatever fantasy she was building up in her head by continuing to insist what happened at the party was nothing special; and there certainly wasn't going to be a repeat performance. It would have been the safest decision. Still, the nagging guilt that only made itself known around Brittany made me compromise.

"Brittz," I started again as I placed a hand on her forearm. I felt the muscles tense underneath her skin and I was momentarily taken back to the day I told her I was going to date Puck. She was preparing herself for the worst in an attempt to lessen the hurt of whatever I said next. "What we did last night, it was only for show. Guys love them some girl-on-girl and I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to get noticed and score some hot points," I explained before I turned her around to face me. Even though I had heard her sniffling, I wasn't prepared for the tight feeling in my chest when I saw the tracks her tears had left behind. "Just because it was for show though, doesn't mean it didn't feel good. It may not have felt like getting tazered, but damn girl. No wonder all the guys wants to be gettin' their mack on with you all the time," I continued, trying to make her smile by using the fake ghetto voice I knew she loved.

"Thanks," she said with a choked laugh as she used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. She then gave me a small, watery smile and said, "But you already have tons of hot points, San. If you get any hotter, you're going to like, combust."

"Yeah, well… Someone has to look this good. No one else in this cow town could handle being this smokin'," I replied in the soft voice I reserved solely for her and returned her smile as I reached up to wipe away some of the stray tears she missed. I could still see sadness tinged with confusion lurking in the blue irises staring down at me but at least she wasn't crying anymore. "What do you say we get you home now, huh?" I asked as I pulled my hand away from her cheek and offered my pinky. She responded with a light giggle before she linked her pinky with mine once more and eagerly led me down the street. I smiled at my friend's enthusiasm and allowed her to lead the way. Half an hour later, I found myself walking under a black, metal archway that read 'Lima Park' across it in chipped, white paint.

"This is not your aunt's house," I deadpanned as we walked across the blacktop. I didn't have to look over at her to know there was a grin plastered across her face.

"I know. I just want to see the ducks before I dance today. They're kind of my good luck charms," she explained as we crossed into the grassy field, where I narrowly avoided a sprinting little boy being chased by a shrieking little girl. I took a moment to glare after the children who had nearly plowed into me before I returned my attention to the space in front of me.

"I'm pretty sure last week you said _I_ was your good luck charm," I huffed as I released her pinky and crossed my arms over my chest. It wasn't that I was jealous ducks had replaced me as Brittany's good luck charm; I was just… jealous that _ducks_ had replaced _me_. Santana Lopez was not someone who could be replaced by some stupid birds. My ire only rose when I heard Brittany laughing beside me. Her next words, however, were like a band-aid for my wounded pride.

"You're my best luck charm, San. Duh. That's why I make you come to all my recitals," she told me as we approached the lake, which was swarming with the pesky birds that Brittany loved so much.

"And here I was thinking you just wanted the pleasure of my company," I said in a mock growl. She responded by bumping her hip into mine so I ended up stumbling sideways. I glared at her once I regained my balance but she remained unfazed by it; my glares never really worked on Brittany.

"Stop being such a brat, San," she ordered in a playful voice just as we were reaching the flock of ducks. Two of the foul creatures moved in on me as soon as we approached the water's edge and I had to resist the urge to kick them across the lake when they snapped at me with their bills. I scowled at them instead but their bird brains couldn't comprehend the threat behind my expression so they continued to snap at my shins and calves.

"How come they never attack you?" I asked as I stepped back from the swarm of birds, for both my safety and theirs.

"Because I speak duck," she replied with a shrug as she got down to her knees and held her hand out. I watched in rapt fascination as the squawking birds waddled over to the blonde girl and nudged their feathery heads against the back of her hand. The grin that spread across her face made a small, half smile form on my own as I lowered myself to the ground and watched my carefree friend interact with the winged devil-spawn. Long minutes ticked by that I spent cross-legged in the freshly cut grass simply observing her. Indentations from the grass were beginning to form on the palms of my hands when the subject of my observations finally waved goodbye to the ducks and came to sit down by me.

"Thanks for letting me come here. I know you don't like the ducks very much," she said as she rested her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around mine. I released a content sigh as I tilted my head to the side and leaned it against hers.

"It's not like I had much choice in the matter. You were supposed to be taking us home," I reminded her in a soft voice so she would know I didn't really mind our detour.

"You could have said no when you realized we were going in the wrong direction," she pointed out matter-of-factly.

"I didn't notice we were going the wrong way."

"You're such a liar, San. I saw you roll your eyes," she said with a laugh before tilting her head back and gave me a peck on the cheek. Warmth flooded the area she had kissed and, for once, I was grateful for my Hispanic ethnicity; my naturally tan skin hid my blush from Brittany.

"Yeah, well… Don't tell anyone I let you bring me here. I do have a reputation to maintain," I grumbled half-heartedly.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do if I tell?"

"I dunno," I replied with a shrug as I turned my body. "Probably something like this." Before she could respond, I had pulled my arm out of her grip, placed my hands on her shoulders, and pushed her down to the ground. I used her surprise to my advantage and quickly straddled her hips so she couldn't get up; which left me free to tickle her sides without mercy. An evil laugh escaped when I heard her squealing as she squirmed to get away. She tried to fight back but every time she lifted her hands to retaliate, I would amplify my assault and she would be rendered helpless once more.

"Stop it, San! I promise I won't tell people how mushy you are!" she shrieked while she tried to buck me off of her with her hips. Deciding she had learned her lesson, I relented in my attack on her sides and leaned back so she could breathe easier. "Brat," she called me in a breathless voice as she sat up, bringing her face dangerously close to mine. I caught myself studying the way the sunlight made her freckles stand out against her pale skin; and the way her eyes turned an unbelievably bright shade of blue when the sun's rays hit them just right. What I did after I finished studying her familiar face was done out of curiosity and it was purely experimental. At least, that was what I told myself as I closed the distance between us and kissed her again.

Brittany didn't offer any resistance as I lowered her to the ground once more, placing my hands on either side of her head and pinning her in a far different way than I had earlier. She didn't seem to care about the grass that was scratching against the bare skin of her legs or that leaves were getting into her already disheveled hair. All that seemed to matter was getting her hands onto my hips hovering above hers and returning the kiss. A few seconds later, one of those hands moved up behind my neck and pulled me deeper into the embrace. I responded by slipping my tongue between soft, parted lips that tasted like strawberry lip gloss.

Brittany eagerly returned the kiss as she maneuvered her hand from my neck down to my side. I moaned when that hand disappeared under the fabric of my tube-top and moved closer to my breast. I paid her back by positioning one of my legs in between hers. She released a small whimper before she slid her hand from my hip to my lower back and pressed down, signaling she wanted me to apply more pressure. I would have fulfilled the request if something hadn't pinched the calf of my free leg.

"Son of a bitch! That fucking hurt," I hissed as I pulled away from Brittany and reached down to rub my leg. I looked over my shoulder and found that Brittany and I were surrounded by the ducks she had been conversing with earlier; one of which was extremely close to where my leg had been. I glared at the winged creature as I rolled off of the blonde, only to find myself face to face with another duck. I yelped when it snapped at me and nipped my earlobe. "Patos estupidos!" I growled as I quickly climbed to my feet and covered my ear with one of my hands.

"Don't yell at them, San," Brittany said as she stood up next to me. Her appearance was in a state of utter chaos with leaves tangled into her long strands of hair, her lip-gloss slightly smeared around her mouth, and blades of grass clinging to the fabric of her rumpled clothing.

"Well, tell them to stop attacking me. I didn't even do anything!"

"Maybe they thought you were hurting me," Brittany suggested with a smile before she reached out and turned my head to the side so she could examine my injured ear. I winced when she touched the sore spot. "Sorry," she said before she pulled her hand away and gave me an apologetic half-smile. "My aunt has a bunch of ice packs in her freezer. I think she's saving them so she can build an igloo this summer."

"That, or Gracie still hasn't learned to stay out of the way when her teammates try to kick the soccer ball," I mumbled under my breath as I started to walk back towards the park's gates. I looked back when I didn't hear Brittany following behind me, only to see that she was still saying goodbye to the ducks; although it looked like she was scolding a few of them. I chuckled at her actions before calling back to her. "Come on, Brittz. I wants to get me one of those icepacks before your aunt actually does build an igloo." I watched as she shook a scolding finger at the ducks one last time before she jogged over to my side.

"I think they got the message to be nicer to you; especially when you're doing nice things to me."

"Nice things, huh?" I asked, unable to keep the arrogant smirk off my face as we backtracked through the park. Puck had never verbally complimented me on my kissing but I figured I had to be doing something right since he kept coming back for more. Still, it was nice to actually hear someone tell me how good I was; especially if the compliment was coming from someone I trusted completely.

"Very nice things," she assured me, nodding her head as she spoke. I almost laughed at the dazed expression on her flushed face but I decided to change the conversation to something a little more serious instead.

"Britt…"

"San."

"You know we can't..." I let the sentence trail off, suddenly unsure of what I wanted to say. I hadn't planned on kissing Brittany while we had been in the park but it had happened. Liking the kiss definitely hadn't been in my plans either, but there was no way I could deny kissing her was far more enjoyable than kissing Puck; and that was the problem. I shouldn't have enjoyed it nearly as much as I did. If it got out that I actually liked kissing Brittany outside of drunken parties, everything I had worked for over the years would be ruined. _I_ would be ruined. I mentally groaned in frustration as I tightened my ponytail and tried to figure out what I wanted to say.

"What's wrong, San?" she asked when I still hadn't said anything by the time we left the park.

"Nothing's wrong." I doubted she believed me but I kept talking so she couldn't call me out on the lie. "Look, if we keep doing this-"

"Going to the park?"

"No," I drawled as I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket, "I meant what we were doing next to the lake before your duck friends attacked me."

"Oh, you mean the sweet lady kisses."

"Yeah, those," I said as I looked around to make sure no one heard what she said. Luckily, the closest people to us were sitting on a bench across the street. "It's just… would you mind if we kept the lady kisses between us? Like our little secret?" I asked once I was sure we were clear of eavesdroppers.

"Like Romeo and Taylor?" she asked as we turned the corner. I narrowed my eyes in confusion as I tried to figure out what she was talking about; then I remembered that atrocious Taylor Swift song Brittany liked to hum to herself whenever she thought I wasn't listening.

"It's supposed to be Romeo and Juliet but yeah, something like that."

"I'm pretty sure her name isn't Juliet Swift, San," Brittany argued, which led to me explaining Shakespeare to her for the duration of the walk. By the time we reached the porch leading up to her aunt's door, I had exhausted my knowledge of Shakespeare's plays. Luckily, Brittany was distracted from my spontaneous English lesson when she opened the front door and was greeted by the fattest cat I had ever seen.

"Lord Tubbington!" she yelled as she bent down to pet the feline-like blob of fer. Her face contorted into a grimace, however, when she got close to him. "I know you have nine lives, Tubbington, but that doesn't give you an excuse to waste them as a chain smoker," she scolded him. I watched her reprimand the indifferent cat for a few seconds longer before I walked around her so I could get to the kitchen. Once I made it passed the gluttonous feline and into the kitchen, I made a beeline for the freezer so I could grab an icepack for my ear. When Brittany finally joined me in the kitchen, I was sitting at the table with the icepack pressed against the side of my head.

"You never answered my question," I reminded her when she sat in the chair across the table from me. At first, she gave me a perplexed look. A moment later, however, she remembered what I was talking about and her face took on a thoughtful expression.

"If my answer is yes, do I get a sweet lady kiss as a reward?" she quietly asked with a hopeful smile on her as she leaned forward.

"I think something like that can be arranged," I replied before I leaned forward and sealed our final decision with a chaste kiss. Well, it was chaste compared to what we had been doing in the park; it still left both of us breathless by the time we pulled away. It was also the last kiss we shared that day since Brittany had a dance practice to attend followed by dinner with her aunt. Plus, I had promised to spend the day with my abuelos. That last kiss, however, marked the beginning of a summer filled with them.

We actually developed two kinds of kissing. The first kind was reserved for the time we had all to ourselves. They often started off softly enough but, after a few minutes of gentle exploration, they would turn into a loosely controlled inferno. I often found myself having to force us apart so things wouldn't cross the border into territory I wasn't ready for. The other type of kissing was what we used at parties to get people to notice us.

During those kisses, I always made sure one or both of us had a drink in our hands and we never touched each other below the neck. Well, Brittany had a harder time following that rule but no one seemed to notice the few times she slipped. The arrangement seemed to be working to our advantage; Brittany got her sweet lady kisses, I had someone to get my mack on with whenever Puck was being an idiot, and we both had a way to boost our popularity. Then I made the mistake of forcing Puck to attend Brittany's last dance recital for the summer.

"Babe, this is boring as fuck." I pulled my gaze away from the stage where the dancers were warming up and glared at my boyfriend. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the audience with his ripped blue jeans and grey t-shirt. His outfit clashed with my more formal outfit of a silk, white blouse and black skirt but he refused to wear a suit or tuxedo.

"Watch your language, asshole. There are kids here," I hissed. He rolled his eyes at me before he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into his seat with an aggravated sigh. "And if you think fucking is boring you're doing it wrong."

"I wouldn't know. My pathetic excuse for a girlfriend prudes up every time my hands go for my belt buckle," he huffed while he glared at the stage, probably trying to make it blow up so he wouldn't have to sit through the dance recital.

"And my pathetic excuse for a boyfriend probably wouldn't know what to do with himself if he ever managed to get his pants unbuttoned," I snapped back, successfully shutting him up just as the lights in the auditorium began to dim. Even though I had been to dozens of Brittany's dance recitals over the years, anticipation would build in my chest every time the lights dimmed. Just like I had done the first time I had ever watched her dance, I leaned forward in my seat with my arms crossed over my lap and focused every ounce of my attention on the stage as I waited for the dancers to start the show.

Soft strains of music drifted through the auditorium as a faint light started to glow over the stage. My eyes automatically scanned the now visible dancers positioned on the stage until they landed on Brittany. It wasn't hard to find her. She was in the middle of the group and a stream of light focused on the lithe blonde as she began to dance. As soon as her hips started to sway to the slow, steady beat of the music, the other dancers stopped existing and she was the only one I could focus on. I wasn't the only one she entranced with her dance moves either.

Every pair of eyes in the audience was set on the tall, graceful blonde as she danced across the stage, quickening the pace of her dance steps as the music gradually sped up and the stage lights began to flash to the beat. I considered myself lucky to be friends with someone who could captivate a room full of strangers without even talking to them. It wasn't like she was just an average dancer surrounded by mediocre performers after all. They were the best of their class and hand-picked by the instructor; Brittany just had a connection to the music that none of the other dancers had and it gave her the advantage over her peers. It was as if the music conversed with her in a language only she could understand; a language composed only of tempo and pitch that spoke to her more than words ever could. It was the conversation between the music and Brittany that always drew the attention of the crowd. By the time the first half of the show ended, even Puck looked entertained as he hesitantly added to the applause that filled the dance theater.

After an impressive amount of pushing and shoving, Puck and I were two of the first few people out of the theater during the intermission. He was in a hurry to get out of there because the idea of being seen in the theater by someone he knew made him cringe. I, on the other hand, had a much better reason for mercilessly shoving people out of the way to get out to the lobby first. The wad of twenty-dollar bills filling my pocket reminded me of that reason as I made my way toward a table topped with bright floral arrangements. Fifty-five dollars later, I was walking away from the table with a bouquet of light red carnations hidden behind my back as I searched for Brittany.

Unsurprisingly, I found her standing next to her aunt in the middle of the crowded lobby. There was a swarm of people blocking my way and I had to push my way through the sea of bodies; a task that was made more difficult because both hands were behind my back. As I approached her, I heard snippets of compliments towards her dancing and saw congratulatory pats on the shoulder. When she finally saw me though, she excused herself from her swarm of fans and hurried over to me. Before I knew it, I was wrapped into a tight, sweaty hug. Luckily, I had enough time to move the flowers out of the way so she wouldn't crush them along with my rib cage.

"Someone's Miss Popular tonight," I greeted her when she finally released me from the hug and pulled away. "It looks like I have some competition for the position of your number one fan."

"Maybe just a little bit," she replied with a teasing smile before she started to lean slightly to the left and tried to look behind me. Realizing what she was doing, I turned my body in the opposite direction so she couldn't see what I was hiding behind my back. "Did you get me something?" she asked curiously as she continued to make indiscreet attempts to see what was in my hands.

"Maybe I did," I replied as I continued to keep the flowers out of her line of sight. It was no easy task, considering she was taller than me. "If I did, I'm only going to give it to you if you can guess what it is."

"Is it a cat?"

"What? No. You're not even close, Brittz." She looked a little disappointed at my response. "I'm pretty sure if I got you a cat, Tubbington would eat it."

"Would not; he can only eat people food," she said defensively before her brows furrowed together and she tried to think of something else I could have gotten her. After a few more guesses, which involved a combination of unicorns and glitter, she finally guessed correctly and I handed her the carnations with a small, nervous smile. My anxiety disappeared when a grin broke across her face and she wrapped me into another tight embrace, accidentally smacking me in the back of the head with the flowers as she did so.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I ignored the familiar tingles rolled over the skin of my back when she spoke into my ear and focused on returning the hug. We didn't break apart until the director called for the dancers to return to the stage so they could prepare for the second half of the show. I wished her a quick good luck before I watched her hurry back to the theater. I stared at the swinging double doors she had gone through for a few moments more before I turned around to look for my boyfriend. I didn't have to go far because I ran right into his chest as soon as I turned.

"Hey, babe," he greeted me. The mischievous half-smile on his face made an uneasy feeling drop into the pit of my stomach. "How come you never drop fifty bucks on me?" he asked curiously as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Hell, it's like pulling teeth to get your cheap ass to drop a fiver on me."

"Calling me cheap doesn't really make much of an impact when you constantly dine and dash on our dates," I reminded him before I started to walk away from him. His next words, however, made me stop dead in my tracks.

"I just wish you would have told me you were so willing to go the gay way for Brittany. It really could have set off a spark, if you know what I mean." The suggestive tone in his voice made my skin crawl and I was in Puck's face before he could make another crude remark.

"I'm not gay and neither is Brittany so get that thought out of your head," I growled as I stood head to chest with him. Puck was the first one to break eye contact, shifting his gaze to my chest. "We make out at parties so everyone can have a good time and that's all." I emphasized my point by poking him in the chest, as if doing so would somehow drill my words into him.

"So what about the flowers?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "And the fancy get up you're wearing just so you can sit in the dark where no one will actually see you?"

"Okay, first of all, just because you like to dress like an escaped convict to formal occasions doesn't mean I do," I pointed out as I looked him over. "Secondly, flowers are kind of customary at dance recitals. It's not my fault they're so damn expensive." Disbelief was still written across his face and I rolled my eyes at how stubborn he was being. "If I were gay, why would I be dating you? Unless you're insisting you're a girl. It would explain a lot." I knew I had hit a sore spot when his face contorted into a scowl. I buried the knife a little deeper when I added, "I heard that's common in guys who grow up without a father figure."

"Shut up, Santana. I get it. You're not gay."

"Are you sure? Because I can do this all night," I told him with an arrogant smirk. When he didn't answer, I rested a hand on his shoulder and pulled myself up so I could give him a quick kiss on the lips and whisper in his ear, "If you're still not convinced I'm straight, there's something else I can do all night to change your mind." It was a bluff but before he could call me on it, I planted my lips on his again and gave him a much deeper kiss than the last one. After we pulled apart, I looked up and saw that his brown eyes had darkened; and I knew he wasn't thinking about Brittany and me in some lesbian fantasy any more. Unfortunately, I had to deal with the repercussions of my actions later that night when we went back to my place after the recital.

When I suggested sex, I didn't think Puck was actually ready to do more than our usual grinding during our make-out sessions but he quickly proved me wrong. When we got back to my house, my parents were out for their weekly date and my abuelos had gone to an exclusively Hispanic bingo game. Puck thought the empty house was the perfect opportunity to get me to make good on what I had said at the dance recital.

"Babe, I don't know what you're so worried about. No one is here," he said as he kissed my neck. He had been too lazy to go up the stairs when we got back so he had settled on lowering me onto the leather couch in my living room with the lights dimmed. "Besides," he added on as he slipped a hand under my blouse, "you kind of promised me a little somethin' somethin'." I wasn't sure if it was his rough hand traveling across my skin or his words that made me shudder but Puck took it as a good sign and slipped his leg in between mine.

"I'm not worried," I argued as I tried to ignore the uncomfortable weight that was roughly grinding against my center. Instead, I focused on explaining why I was against what he was planning. "I just don't think my living room couch is the most romantic spot to lose the big V."

"It's not about where you're at, babe. It's all about who you're with," he argued as he pressed his thigh harder against me. I resisted the urge to grunt against the added pressure that wasn't really doing anything aside from crushing my pelvic bone. "I never pegged you as the romantic type, Lopez," he whispered next to my ear before placing a kiss against my neck again.

"And I never pegged you for someone who would rather talk than make-out," I retorted before I placed a hand against the side of his head and forced him to kiss me on the mouth. The less he talked, the more time I had to figure out a way to stop us from going further. By the time we broke apart from the kiss though, I still hadn't thought of an escape plan and Puck's hands were wandering down to his belt buckle.

For a moment, my heart clenched in my chest and I recognized the feeling as panic. It was immediately followed by an overwhelming frustration; I shouldn't have been panicking over sex with Puck. We had known each other since we were six after all. Despite the way I acted towards him, I had grown to care about him more than any other guy in my life outside of my family. I should have felt lucky that I was going to lose my virginity to him rather than Finn, Matt, or some other loser from our school. I should have felt that way, but I didn't.

Instead, all I could feel was my returning panic building in my chest. It only got worse when I felt Puck remove his jeans before he started to fiddle with the top of my skirt. Maybe he thought undressing me was supposed to be romantic or sexy but all it did was make my panic worsen.

"Get out," I ordered him in a tight voice. I struggled to get the words over the large lump in my throat.

"What?" he asked as if he hadn't heard me. I wouldn't have been surprised if he actually hadn't; my voice had been so quiet, even I almost thought I hadn't spoken.

"Get out," I repeated in a stronger voice as I pushed him away from me. There was a confused expression on his face as he pulled away from me but I ignored it as I tried to scoot away from him. Unfortunately, the couch wasn't big enough for me to maintain a comfortable distance from Puck.

"Babe-"

"I said get the fuck out of here, Puckerman!" The anger in my voice surprised both of us. Puck stared down at me in shock for a moment before I shoved him harder. I caught him off balance and he fell off the couch, landing on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

"Talk about a fucking cocktease," he muttered under his breath as he grabbed his pants off the floor and struggled to put them back on while he walked towards the doorway.

"Take your damn shirt with you!" I called after him before I grabbed the mentioned article of clothing off the back of the couch and threw it at his retreating form. His response was the sound of the front door slamming shut. Once I was sure he was gone, I reached for the light and turned it up higher. After a few minutes of simply staring at the wall, my gaze drifted to my reflection in the dark television screen and I tried to figure out what was wrong with me.

I had turned down my boyfriend, who just so happened to be the finest guy at McKinley, just because I had panicked. There had to be something wrong with me if I was turning an opportunity like that down. Unfortunately, my reflection was not making me feel any better. All it showed me was my messed up hair, my wrinkled shirt, and the skirt that had been slightly pulled down. It only reminded me of what Puck and I had almost done, which made the panic bubble in my chest again. Suddenly, my house seemed too stifling and I needed to get away from it; away from the place where Puck and I had almost done the nasty. I also needed someone who could tell me what was wrong with me because I certainly couldn't do it; and there was only one person I knew who could do that for me. That's how I found myself knocking on the door to Brittany's aunt's house an hour after I walked out my front door.

"Santana! Brittany didn't tell me you were coming over," her aunt greeted me as she ushered me inside. She didn't comment on my rumpled clothing or my messed up hair. Instead, she led me to the kitchen and sat me down at the table. She walked over to the refrigerator, grabbed me a bottle of water, and tossed it to me. I was so out of it, I nearly missed catching the water. Luckily, my instincts saved me and I managed to catch it before it smacked me in the face.

"Thanks, Hannah," I said as I opened it and took a long drink. "Brittany didn't really know I was coming over," I explained after I placed the bottle down on the table so I could stare at it instead of at Brittany's aunt. I was sure if I looked at her, she would figure out what I had nearly done.

"Oh. Well, maybe your surprise visit will pull her out of whatever funk she is in." I looked up from my water at what she had said; Brittany never got into funks. "She's been down in the basement since we got back from her recital. She just came home, changed out of her costume and just started dancing; and she won't talk to me about what's wrong," she explained before she reached out and placed a hand on mine. "I haven't known you very long, Santana, but I've seen how good of a friend you've been to Brittany, especially when she's really needed one. If anyone can get her to talk, it's you."

"Um… Thanks?" I wasn't quite sure what else I was supposed to say. I wasn't used to being complimented by adults who weren't related to me. Hannah simply smiled at my confusion. "I guess I'll go down stairs and see what's up then," I said uncertainly as I stood up from my chair. She nodded and waved her hand towards the basement door, trying to get me to hurry. I rolled my eyes at her impatience before I went over to the indicated door. I could hear pulsating music coming from the basement and it only grew louder when I opened the door and went down the steps. When I reached the foot of the stairs, the music was so loud that I needed to put my hands over my ears just to hear myself think. I wasn't sure how Brittany was able to dance to it without covering her own ears.

"Are you trying to make yourself deaf?" I yelled over the fast-paced music. Unfortunately, Brittany was too busy dancing to even notice me watching her. I frowned when I noticed how red her face was; it wasn't the healthy rose color she usually got from dancing. Since she was apparently oblivious to my presence, I walked across the spacious basement towards the large stereo system against the wall opposite the doorway. Without warning, I turned the music off, which made Brittany come to an abrupt halt.

"I was dancing to that," she objected in a breathless voice. I looked over my shoulder to see an expression on her face I had never seen before. She actually appeared to be pissed at me for turning off the music.

"I can see that," I replied, ignoring the unfamiliar scowl on my friend's face as I turned to face her. "I can also see that you haven't been drinking anything since you've been down here which, according to your aunt, has been a long time," I added on before I walked over to her with determined strides. "Are you trying to make yourself sick, Brittany? If you are, you're certainly on the right path," I snapped, making the scowl disappear from her face.

"I'm not trying to do that, San," she assured me in a quiet voice as she looked down at floor and traced a pattern with her foot. She seemed almost guilty for making me worry. "I just… I had a lot on my mind. I thought dancing would make it go away," she explained with a shrug before she walked over to one of the wooden benches that was placed against the wall and sat down. I waited a moment before I joined her on the bench, wanting to give her time to sort out her thoughts.

"Yeah, you're aunt told me something seemed to be on your mind," I said as I leaned my head against her shoulder. "You could have talked to me, y'know. It would have been healthier than dancing until you dropped."

"You were with Puck," she reminded me. I shuddered at the memory that statement brought up but I covered it with a chuckle.

"You know I would have dropped him in an instant if you needed to talk to me about something."

"No, San. You were _with_ Puck."

"So what if I was? You're not my mother, Brittany. I don't need your approval to get laid." The words came out harsher than I wanted them to but they escaped before I could stop them and I couldn't take them back.

"I know but it made me sad," she said in a soft voice that only made me feel worse for snapping at her. "I just wanted to feel better. I didn't mean to get carried away but you know how I get when I dance."

"Well, you don't have to feel bad that I didn't tell you I was with Puck. We didn't do anything," I mumbled as I looked down at the floor.

"You didn't?"

"Nope. I freaked out and kicked him out of the house before we could do anything," I explained with a sigh. "He probably thinks I'm some sort of freak now. Not that I would blame him if he did."

"You're not a freak, San."

"I sent him running out of my house with his pants down, B. That's kind of a freakish thing to do," I said with a self-deprecating chuckle. Brittany responded by placing her hand against my cheek and forcing me to look at her.

"You were scared." I scoffed at the accusation and tried to pull away from her hand but she wouldn't let me. "My aunt said giving myself to someone for the first time is supposed to be special because I'm special. Then she had to convince me she was calling me the good kind of special, not the stupid kind that my teachers usually refer to me as when they meet with my parents."

"Brittany, it wasn't-"

"Did he make you feel special, San?" she asked as she got off the bench and kneeled down in front of me. She took one of my hands in hers and looked at me with sincere, questioning blue eyes. "Did he tell you how pretty and awesome you are?"

"No," I replied in a quiet voice before she pulled me down to the floor with her. I was surprised when she laid back on the ground and gently guided my body so I was hovering above her.

"Did he make sure you started off on top?"

"No…"

"Did he-"

"He didn't do any of the things you're going to say because he's Puck. You know how he is, Brittany," I cut her off. "He wouldn't like the idea of a girl being on top. He wouldn't like feeling vulnerable."

"And you would?" she asked, genuinely curious. I opened my mouth to respond, only to realize she was right. She smiled when I didn't answer before she leaned up and brought our lips together in a soft kiss. Before I knew it, one of her hands was on my hip and the other was resting behind my ear. Her eyes were twinkling when she pulled back and I suddenly felt my stomach flip.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a hoarse voice as I stared down into those trusting blue eyes; eyes I had known since I was nine years old.

"I'm making it special so Puck doesn't have to."

"I'm not gay, Brittany."

"So?" she asked with a confused expression on her face. "You don't have to be gay for your first time to be special. You just have to like it," she said with a shrug before she leaned forward and kissed me again; and I gave up on arguing with her.

Instead, I focused on gaining control of the kiss by slipping a hand under her shirt and running my hand along the smooth, toned muscle of her abdomen. I felt her body arch and her breathing quicken when my hand traveled towards the edge of her sweatpants. If she was determined to make my first time special, I was eager to return the favor. The soft hand that slipped under my shirt and started unfastening the clips of my bra, however, reminded me of what we were about to do and my muscles involuntarily stiffened.

"Relax," she breathed against my mouth when she felt my body tense. Then she started to press soft kisses against my jaw to distract me. Her tongue teasingly grazed the skin in every spot she kissed, sending a tingling sensation down to my core. Soon, I didn't even notice the hand that was taking my bra off because I was more focused on the sensation of her mouth against my neck just before she traveled down my torso.

Two hours later, we were curled up together underneath the covers of Brittany's bed. I was on my side and resting my head against her naked chest, completely out of breath. I was fighting a losing battle to keep my eyes open as I listened to Brittany's heartbeat and focused on the sensation of her hand massaging my lower back. I felt bad that I was crushing her arm but I was too tired and comfortable to move. My own arm was lying protectively over her stomach, just below her breasts, and my leg was intertwined with one of hers.

"Thank you," I whispered into the hollow of her neck before placing a kiss against the skin. I felt her release a content sigh beneath me before she pulled me closer to her.

"What are friends for?" she asked in a tired whisper just as my eyelids closed. I was just barely aware of the small smile on my face as I fell asleep to the sound of her breathing.

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**Author's Note:** And that concluded chapter 5. I hope you all enjoyed it. I'd like to thank Shandy for her help with the dance recital flowers idea. I don't really know much about dance recitals so she was super helpful with that part. Speaking of the flowers, just in case any of you were wondering, light red carnations symbolize admiration. :) Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, added this to their story alerts, and/or added it to their favorites. It means a lot to me and I hope to update faster so you all don't have to be stuck waiting around for me. On to chapter 6!

**PS:** I apologize for the lack of a sex scene. Smut and I don't get along and I didn't want to ruin the chapter by writing a crappy sex scene.


	6. Swimming in Denial

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Glee.

**Author's Note:** Sorry I took so long with this. You know... like 3 months. My brain did not want to cooperate with me so much on this one so I had to keep taking breaks. I also apologize for it being shorter than the last few chapters I've posted. I was going to end it differently but I kind of like where I did cut it off. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter even if it is a little angsty...

* * *

I awoke the next day and found myself curled up next to my best friend underneath a pink comforter. For once, Brittany had managed to stay in place while she slept so her chest was still serving as my faithful pillow. A small, content smile appeared on my face as I listened to the familiar sound of her heart beating in time to the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Her hand, which had been lightly stroking my back the night before, rested on top of my own in the small space between our bodies. My other hand was still resting just beneath her breasts, subconsciously keeping Brittany close to me in a protective embrace. Warmth radiated from the smooth skin beneath my arm and my thoughts drifted to how warm her skin had felt against my lips.

When I realized what path my thoughts were leading me down, I jerked away from her and brought my arm close to my chest. Brittany sighed at the loss of contact before she rolled onto her side. I laughed to myself when her bangs fell in her face and made her nose twitch in her sleep. Taking pity on her, I reached forward and tucked the pesky strands of hair behind her ear so they would stop tickling her face.

For one long moment, I found myself staring at her while she slept, marveling at how unburdened she appeared even in sleep. I used my thumb to smooth away the few worry lines she did have and allowed the touch to linger for a few seconds, secretly enjoying the sleepy smile it brought to the blonde's face. Then I started to feel a little creepy so I quickly pulled my hand back and averted my gaze before I became the next Mr. Ryerson. I startled when a familiar, annoying voice accompanied by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs broke the silence blanketing Brittany's room.

"Brittany, Aunt Hannah wants to know if you and Satan want some of her special Fourth of July pancakes for breakfast!" My heart leapt into my throat at the sound of the voice getting closer to the door. I clumsily rolled out of the bed and frantically searched the room for my clothes, desperate to prevent Gracie from walking in on the two of us naked. Unfortunately, I could only find my blouse and a pair of underwear I wasn't sure was mine before the footsteps approached Brittany's room. Swearing under my breath, I pulled the shirt over my head and hastily slipped the underwear on just as the door opened and Gracie poked her head inside. "Britt?"

"Don't you have some houses to burn down, Poindexter?" I greeted her while I tried to subtly straighten my shirt. I ignored the angry glare she sent me as I ran a hand through my messed up hair and hoped to God it only looked like bed-head and not sex hair.

"Only if you're in one of them," she replied through gritted teeth.

"Pretty sure I survived the last time you tried to kill me in a house fire so you may need to try a new tactic," I pointed out as I discretely scanned the room for the rest of my clothes.

"Could you stop being a bitch for like, two milliseconds or is that too much to ask?" I leveled a glare in Gracie's direction when she interrupted my search for the elusive articles of clothing. To my amusement, she took a step back from the doorway; not that I blamed her for being afraid of me. Our tenuous relationship had taken a turn for the worse after the fire and it wasn't uncommon for our verbal arguments to turn into physical ones; arguments that always ended in a tie because Brittany always pulled me off of her sister before I could give her a real piece of my mind.

"Will you just let Brittany know Aunt Hannah made breakfast?" she asked. She was about to retreat to the safety of upstairs when something in the room caught her eye and she started to look me up and down. "Your shirt is on inside-out by the way," she finally said with a knowing smirk. A low growl escaped my throat as I bent down and picked up a pair of pants from the floor and threw it at her. She wasn't able to close the door fast enough so the pants hit her in the face before they fell to the floor with a soft thud. She shot me a glare and I gladly returned it with a sneer of my own as she shut the door. I waited until I heard her retreating footsteps heading back upstairs before I released an aggravated breath and ran a shaky hand through my hair in an attempt to calm my nerves. After all, it wasn't like it was the first time Gracie had caught Brittany and me in a compromising situation.

I nearly had a heart attack the first time she walked in on us making out. I had also suggested that we duct tape her whole body and abandon her in a forest so she couldn't tell anyone about what she had seen. Brittany, however, shot that idea down with a well placed pout. For some reason, she seemed to trust Gracie and didn't believe her sister would snitch to their parents about anything she caught us doing. Then again, Brittany trusted everyone; that included Patches the homeless reject who barked at anyone who passed the library.

Thoughts of the blonde soon led to me crawling back onto the bed so I was lying next to her and watching her sleep, wishing I could be as okay with what had happened as her. Unfortunately, sex had made things far more complicated than I had ever anticipated and I was beginning to realize Gracie was the least of my worries. She wasn't really much of a problem since I could always scare her into secrecy if she ever threatened to tell her parents. She also didn't know anyone at McKinley aside from me, her sister and… Quinn.

My stomach dropped when I thought of the holier-than-thou cheerleader. If Sister Christian ever found out about what had happened, she wouldn't hesitate to rip my reputation to shreds with the information. Then she would finally be able to claim the top spot of the social pyramid without worrying about me pushing her off. All the years I had spent building up my popularity would count for nothing and my social status would go down the drain just because of one night. My stomach turned at that realization and I could feel the panic building in my chest even as I gently tried to wake Brittany up.

"Brittz," I whispered into the sleeping blonde's ear. When that didn't work, I pulled the blanket down slightly and started to trail my finger along her collarbone. "Brittany." I drew out her name while my finger blazed a trail of goosebumps across her skin. I watched her face twitch as she fought a losing battle against waking up. Soon, sleepy blue eyes reluctantly cracked open and stared into my own.

"San?" Her voice was heavy with sleep and her tired gaze had a hard time holding my more alert one. I fought to keep a smile off my face when she used the back of her hand to rub the sleep out of her eyes and then looked around the room for her alarm clock. Unfortunately, it had been knocked off of the end-table during our raucous activities the night before and was now on the floor in pieces; collateral damage from our night of sexual escapades. "What time is it?"

"Time for a sleepy-headed girl named Brittany to wake up so she can have breakfast with her aunt." The smile I had been fighting off earlier returned with a vengeance when the blonde's eyes lit up at the sound of breakfast. The expression faltered, however, when Brittany sat up and allowed the blanket to pool around her waist, revealing a myriad of purple and red marks all along her torso; marks I had left in the middle of the night. My heart pounded a staccato rhythm against my ribs and my face flushed as the memory of leaving those marks and many more flooded my brain.

"Do you know what we're having?" she asked as she slipped off the bed and made her way to her dresser. I followed her with my eyes, still entranced by the colors I had decorated her body with, and nodded. Then I realized she couldn't see me with her back turned so I struggled to speak up.

"Yeah uh… pancakes," I told her once I finally remembered how to form words. I could not understand how Brittany could be so calm after what we did. I could not understand how she could stand naked in front of me with so much confidence after what we had done. "Brittany, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, silly." She looked over her shoulder and gave me a large smile. Even from her bed, I could see the familiar amused twinkle in her eyes that appeared whenever she gave me that answer. "You can ask me another one if you want," she added on as she turned back to her dresser.

"Why did you have sex with me last night?" The question came out in a rush, my words clinging to one another so none of them would get left behind. Her hand stopped mid-motion as she tried to sort out the jumbled mess of words. I wished I could see what was going on in her head but she kept her back turned to me as she sorted out her thoughts before she answered.

"I told you I wanted to make it special," she finally answered in a soft voice before she turned around. She kept a neutral expression on her face as she held the shirt she had picked out in one hand and a pair of jeans in the other. It was an expression I was not used to seeing on someone as open with her emotions as Brittany. I wasn't even aware she knew how to censor herself from showing her feelings; especially if she was trying to censor them from me. "Wasn't it special?" she asked with her head tilted to the side as she tugged on the pair of jeans.

"It was…" I assured her as I got up from the bed and joined her at the dresser. I hesitated before I placed a hand on Brittany's bare shoulder. It took a surprising amount of willpower to maintain eye contact instead of allowing my gaze to drop to her bare chest while I spoke. "That doesn't really answer my question though. Why was it so important for you to make my first time special?"

"That wasn't what you asked," she said as she dropped her gaze to the floor. I sighed when she attempted to avoid the question and I used my free hand to lift her chin up so she was looking at me again. Even after I did that though, she still appeared to only be looking passed me, not at me.

"Just tell me, Brittany," I insisted but silence was my only answer. "I don't understand why you're being so difficult about this."

"I don't know, okay?" she snapped as she crossed her arms over her chest and walked back to her bed, keeping her back turned to me so I couldn't see the emotions playing across her face. "Why does it matter why we did it anyway? We've already done it so it's not like we can take it back." She paused for a moment before she looked over her shoulder and reluctantly asked, "Do you wish you could take it back, San?"

The question took me by surprise and I found myself having to think about the answer. Sex with Brittany was far from what I had expected; not that I had ever expected to have sex with her. After all, the benefits we shared with each other were supposed to stop at making-out. Everything that happened with Puck, however, had obviously pushed me to the point where my decision-making skills were seriously jeopardized. Still, did that mean I wanted to take back what I had shared with Brittany?

"No," I finally replied with a defeated sigh. My answer made Brittany smile as if someone had just told her she had won an entire field of rainbows. My next words, however, wiped the smile off her face. "We can't… It can't happen again, Brittany."

"Why not?" I wished I could tear my gaze away from the dejected expression on her face but the only other place to look was her chest, which was still topless and, therefore, not an acceptable place to stare. "Why can't we do it again if we both liked it?"

"If people were allowed to do whatever they liked, criminals would never get in trouble for doing… criminal things." My response only made her brow furrow in confusion before she plopped down on the edge of her bed, as if sitting rather than standing would help her sort out my explanation.

"That doesn't make sense. It's not like we were doing anything illegal," she finally said as she pulled the shirt she had picked out over her head. Once she had the shirt on completely, she asked the question that finally made my temper get the better of me. "Why can't we just keep it a secret like the sweet lady kisses?"

"Because what we did is a lot more serious than the stupid kisses, Brittany!" The harsh crack of my fist slamming against the top of the dresser echoed through her room and I saw her flinch at the sound. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and counted to ten so I could push my emotions and the sharp pain shooting through my hand down to a manageable level. I needed Brittany to understand why we couldn't have sex again and scaring her was not going to get my point across. "I'm not gay," I said once I was sure my temper had been reigned in.

"I never said you were, San."

"You're not gay either and I won't have people going around saying we are," I continued just before I crossed the room and kneeled down in front of her. "Puck already has some weird fantasy about us since I got you the damn flowers last night. I'm not going to let anyone else have a reason to think about us that way," I explained as I placed my hands on her knees, hoping the contact would somehow help her understand. I fought the urge to groan when her only answer was a blank stare. Instead, I rested my forehead against one of her knees and released a frustrated breath into the fabric of her jeans.

"Look," I started as I pulled away from her legs and clambered to my feet so I could look for my missing skirt. "I know you don't think it makes sense but this discussion is over. We're not doing it again," I told her once I found the elusive bottoms hanging off of her bed post. She opened her mouth to argue with me but I cut her off before she could try to change my mind. "I mean it, Brittany. The more we do it, the bigger the chance of someone finding out; and I will _not_ spend the rest of high school wearing a label that says 'raging lesbian' on it."

"You don't have to wear one."

"What the fuck else do you think people will call me if they find out we had sex, huh? Do you think they'll just blow it off like it's no big deal?" I asked, no longer able to keep the frustration out of my voice. "The world's not like that, Brittany. It isn't all sunshine and rainbows like you want it to be. People aren't as good as you think they are!"

"I know that."

"Do you? Because you sure aren't acting like you do," I snapped at her as I finally tugged my skirt on and started to fumble with the button. Silence was the only answer I received and I looked up from the button on my skirt to find her staring down at her mattress, tracing patterns across the comforter. Even from the awkward angle I was looking from, I could see her trying to discretely bite her lower lip, a habit she resorted to whenever she was trying not to cry. Something inside twisted painfully at the sight and I knew exactly how to make it stop; but the thought of Quinn finding out about us stopped me from giving in to Brittany's wishes.

"I have to go, Brittz," I told her as I pulled my hair into the familiar ponytail and tried to ignore the pitiful expression on my best friend's face when she looked up from the comforter. "I've got damage control to do with Puck after last night's freak-out," I explained in a rush before I walked towards the door. My hand stopped halfway to the doorknob and I looked over my shoulder at the blonde girl sitting on the bed. My breath caught when my eyes locked with hers, an occurrence that was becoming more annoying every time it happened. My heart shouldn't have been skipping over itself whenever I looked at Brittany. It should have been doing that whenever I was with Puck or something, not my best friend; my best _girl _friend.

"I think…" My words caught in my throat and I cleared it in an attempt to get them to come out. "I think it would be best if we spent a little less time with each other until I can get this Puck shit taken care of," I managed to say just as my hand reached the brass doorknob. I heard her starting to object but I quickly turned the cold metal in my hands and hurried through the doorway, running away from her and those pleading blue eyes as fast as I could.

I didn't stop running when Gracie blocked my path at the top of the stairs. Instead, I barreled passed her and almost sent her tumbling into the kitchen table. I didn't stop running when Brittany's Aunt Hannah called my name. Instead, I sped up and rushed through the living room until I burst through the screen door. I didn't stop running when I felt the soft grass turn to hot pavement, which scratched my bare feet as I ran. Instead, I gritted my teeth and ignored the burning sensation against my skin. I didn't stop running when my lungs started to ache every time they expanded or when the muscles in my legs started to scream in protest. In fact, I didn't stop running until I reached my old street across town.

I mentally thanked Sue Sylvester and the hell she put all of the Cheerios through as I slowed my pace and desperately tried to regain my breath. A weaker woman would have dropped to the ground due to exhaustion or the heat six blocks back but Sue's cheerleading practices had taught me –or rather trained me- to push myself against impossible odds. Now I was mentally preparing myself to face the odds once more as I approached Puck's apartment building. I didn't hesitate to let myself in and make my way up the stairs to his floor. I was on a mission and nothing was going to stop me from straightening things out with Puck. Not even the memory of the pained expression on Brittany's face as I left her bedroom.

The first thing I heard as I approached the door to Puck's apartment was a muffled version of Mario's background music. So I knew before I even opened the door that he was trying to forget about the night before by immersing himself in the realm of video games. I couldn't really blame him and there was a small fear in the back of my mind that he wouldn't want to see me after I had kicked him out of my house; especially since I hadn't even let him put his pants back on before he left. I pushed that fear to the back of my mind, however, as I let myself into the apartment.

As I suspected, Puck was sitting on the raggedy couch in the middle of his living room, completely engrossed in his videogame. He was clad only in old blue-jeans and an almost white wife-beater. The material was stained orange and brown from too many Cheetos and the inability to keep syrup-covered waffles on his fork instead of his shirt. Empty pop cans and junk food wrappers decorated the couch and I grimaced at the sight.

"When the hell did you become such a slob?" I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest and skillfully maneuvered my way around the empty Chinese take-out boxes scattered across the floor so I could join him. Puck didn't take his eyes off the screen even when I walked in front of him, briefly blocking his view of the game, before clearing off a space on the couch and sitting down.

"Is there a reason you're here, Lopez? Are you in the mood to give me another case of blue balls?" he asked as he furiously pressed the buttons on the game controller. A few seconds later, he beat the level and looked over at me while the next stage loaded. "You're in Finn's spot."

"Frankendweeb can sit on the floor," I told him, although I was a little grossed out that I was sitting in Finn germs and who knew what else.

"No, you can get the fuck out of my place. I'm not in the mood to get teased again, especially if you didn't even bother to change into something different from last night to do the teasing in," Puck argued just as the screen lit up with the next level of his Mario game. I glared at the television and the tiny, pixilated plumber who held my boyfriend's attention. After a few minutes of sitting in an awkward bubble filled only with the sounds of button smashing and Super Mario Brothers, I got up from the couch and unplugged the SNES.

"What the fuck?" I smirked when Puck practically leapt to his feet and finally focused all of his attention on me rather than the television screen. "That's the first time Finn and I have gotten to that level. Do you know how long we've been up trying to reach it?"

"Guess you should have saved, huh?"

"You know Finn screwed up the memory cartridge after he dripped cheese in it," he reminded me. I simply shrugged in response, ignoring the angry glare he was directing towards me. "What do you want, Santana? What makes you think you still have the right to stroll into my home, take over my television, and –Shit, Lopez. You're bleeding all over my mom's carpet and my Nintendo!"

My eyes narrowed in confusion. It wasn't until I followed his gaze to the floor that I figured out what he was talking about. I grimaced when I saw the smeared blood covering the side of my left foot. I had completely forgotten that I had left my shoes at Brittany's aunt's house in my haste to get away from the kicked puppy-dog look my best friend had been sporting. Since Puck had pointed it out, however, a stinging sensation was beginning to make itself known with a vengeance.

"Damn it," I hissed as I sat back down on Puck's couch and lifted my foot so I could check out the damage I had done to it. Unsurprisingly, there was a long piece of glass lodged in my skin and a slow but steady flow of blood was oozing around it. I wasn't sure how I hadn't noticed it before but it was definitely making itself known now that it had been brought to my attention. I tried to get the shard of glass out but every time I thought I had it, my fingers would slip. All I really managed to accomplish was getting it stuck even further in my foot.

"Quit dicking around with it. I'll get my sister's tweezers and get the damn thing out before you make an even bigger mess in my house," Puck insisted in a rough voice. I glared at him after he pushed my hands away from my injured foot but he had already left to get the tweezers, leaving me alone with my thoughts as I waited on the couch. Unfortunately, those thoughts revolved around a confused and hurt blonde who was probably still sitting on her bed trying to figure out what had just happened between us.

"Found them." I was grateful when Puck's voice stopped my thoughts from traveling further down that particular road. "I promise my sister hasn't used it to pluck her eyebrows in a while. … At least, I don't think she has," he said as he knelt down in front of me. I was more than a little surprised when he grabbed my injured foot and my first instinct was to pull away from his grip. "Calm down. I do this for my sister whenever she gets splinters so it's not like I'm going to massacre your foot with a pair of tweezers."

"It's not the tweezers I'm worried about," I said under my breath as I hesitantly stretched my foot out towards him once more. I hissed when the tweezers dug into my skin and started to fiddle with the piece of glass. "If you're so experienced then why do you suck at this so much?" I asked through gritted teeth as I tried not to pull away.

"Oh trust me," he started as he peered closer at my injury, "I know exactly what I'm doing. Think of this as payback for leaving the Puckasaurus hanging last night."

"Maybe if you didn't refer to yourself as 'Puckasaurus' things would have gone over a little better," I mumbled under my breath as I bit my lower lip to hold back another gasp of pain. Puck must have noticed my discomfort, however, because I noticed a small smirk starting to cross his face. I used my right foot to kick him in the side of the head, which successfully knocked the expression off his face. Unfortunately, it also made his hand jerk, which managed to wedge the shard of glass deeper into my foot. "You moron! I knew I should have just done it myself," I snapped as I leaned forward and grabbed the tweezers from his hand.

"That was all on you, Lopez," he told me with a smug grin as he leaned back on his hands and watched me while I attempted to get the glass out. "So would you mind telling me the reason you're here bleeding all over the floor my ma just had cleaned?"

I looked up for a moment and found him studying me. He was probably trying to figure out why I was in such a state of chaos compared to how I usually looked around him. Or he was just picturing me naked. I was leaning more towards the second option.

"I was thinking maybe we could pick up where we left off last night," I explained with a shrug before I dropped my gaze back down to my foot. I bit down on my lip when I finally pulled the piece of glass out. Luckily, the pain distracted me from the nervous pounding in my chest as I awaited Puck's response. In that moment, I wasn't sure what answer I wanted more.

On the one hand, if he said no then that would completely ruin any chance I had of fixing what happened the night before. On the other hand, if he agreed to it then it would mean actually going through with sex with Puck. The way my stomach dropped reminded me of how 'not down' my body was for that idea; but I quickly smacked those thoughts down like the hand of god before the queasy feeling they caused could make me change my mind.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Just trying to be helpful. You were the one complaining about blue balls earlier after all. Now you're shooting down my offer?"

"If your offer is kicking me out of my apartment once things start to heat up, then yes, I am shooting your offer down faster than a Wraith can shoot down a Banshee," he told me as he got to his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. "And even if you hadn't ruined any chance of us hooking up, Finn is here. My boy and I don't have _that_ tight of a bromance."

"Okay, listen here, Puckerman. This is how things are going to go down," I started as I stood up. I was careful to keep most of my weight off my injured foot as I stepped into Puck's personal space and placed a hand on his bicep. I trailed my fingers along his bare arm while I maintained eye contact with him. I could practically see his defenses falling once I moved my hands to the waistband of his jeans and gave a slight tug. "We're going to finish what we started last night," I told him before I leaned up and went to place a kiss on his neck. At the last second, however, I moved to his ear and whispered, "Unless, of course, you want 'your boy' to find out whose name you like to say when we get our mack on."

My body was so close to Puck's that I could feel his heart speeding up in response to the threat. He tried to pull away before I could notice but I made sure to keep a smug smile on my face so he would know he had been too late. There was a moment of indecision on Puck's part. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he weighed his options; but then Finn came into the living room carrying a bowl of chips. I raised an eyebrow, silently asking Puck what his decision was. He answered by capturing my lips in a rough kiss.

"Whoa, man. Am I interrupting something?" Finn's voice made us break apart. Puck's breathing was heavy but I wasn't sure if it was from the kiss or the anger I could see lurking behind his eyes. For a moment, I felt my stomach twist into knots over the way I had manipulated him into the answer I needed and I almost told him to forget it. Then he had to open his stupid mouth.

"Azimio is throwing a party tonight," he announced, as if I hadn't gotten the same text as him a week ago. "Maybe if I don't find someone hotter, I'll think about your offer." I almost laughed at the way he tried to make me think hooking up was going to be his decision. We both knew the decision had been taken out of his hands the moment I mentioned a certain Christian girl he had feelings for.

"Trust me. You won't," I assured him. I couldn't stop the cocky smile from appearing on my face as I started to walk passed him. I stopped when he called my name. When I turned to see what he wanted a pair of sandals hit me in the chest and I barely managed to catch them. I looked at them for a moment and Puck must have seen the confusion written on my face.

"Torn up feet don't really turn me on so you may want to wear those if you want to impress me later." I rolled my eyes at his explanation before I put the sandals on and finally left his apartment. A few seconds after I shut the door, I heard the sound of the Nintendo starting up followed by Mario's background music. I shook my head at how much time those two spent playing videogames before I started down the stairs. With each step, however, my feet seemed to get heavier while my thoughts grew darker. I was going to sleep with Puck. I _needed_ to sleep with him. If I chickened out again, there was no doubt in my mind about what the consequences would be.

First there would be whispers around town that I was afraid of sleeping with guys. Then people would start to wonder why I spent more time with Brittany than I did with my own boyfriend. After that, memories of the two of us making out at parties would bubble to the surface of their minds and they would start to connect the dots that weren't there. The only way to stop that from happening was to sleep with Puck. If I didn't sleep, I was going to be on a speeding train towards slushie facials; or worse.

For a moment, a memory long forgotten broke through to the front of my mind. A shiver crawled up my spine as I remembered a broken teenager curled up in a ball, sobbing into the concrete while another boy kicked him over and over again. As hard as I tried to bury that once forgotten but painfully familiar image, the memory plagued me all the way back to my house and caused an uneasy feeling to settle in the pit of my stomach.

The feeling still hadn't gone away when I approached Azimio's house later that night. Even the pounding music that greeted me as soon as I walked through the front door wasn't able to take my mind off the knot my stomach had twisted itself into. On reflex, I looked around the crowded living room for the one person who could usually take my mind off whatever negative feelings happened to be pressing on my mind. Unfortunately, the only person I managed to find was Puck standing around with a bunch of his football buddies. Then I remembered he was the one I was _supposed_ to be looking for and I quickly pushed away the thoughts of who I _wanted_ to look for.

"Hey, babe. Nice of you to make it. I was just taking bets on whether or not you were going to show," Puck greeted me when I approached him and his friends. He leaned in close to me and I could feel his breath warming the skin next to my ear as he pushed back some of my hair and whispered, "Glad you didn't disappoint me or my pocketbook."

"I don't disappoint," I replied as I leaned into his touch. His hands were rough against my skin but I resisted the urge to pull away. Instead, I reached up and pulled him into a heated kiss that lasted longer than the one we had shared earlier that day. There were a few hollers of 'get some' coming from his crowd of friends but I didn't bother to break the kiss until I heard a soft but familiar voice coming from behind my boyfriend.

"San?" I pulled away from Puck and looked around him to find Brittany standing there with a dejected expression on her face as she stared at Puck and me. She quickly tried to replace it with a bright smile but the usual sparkle in her bright blue eyes was missing. Unable to face those empty eyes, I dropped my gaze down to her hands. My eyes widened when I saw what she was holding in front of her.

"What the hell are you doing with those, Brittany?" I asked in a low voice as I stepped around Puck and stood in front of her so the others could see the pair of underwear she was holding. The underwear I had accidentally left at her house earlier that morning.

"You left them at my house. I thought you might want them back," she explained after I ripped the underwear out of her hands and shoved it into my pocket. "And you said we shouldn't hang out for a while so I figured I would bring them to you here. Could I maybe have mine back?"

"Brittany!" I hissed as I placed my hand over her mouth and led her away from the group of guys who were leering at us. Once we were a safe distance away from the jocks, I removed my hand from her face and glared up at her. "What the fuck was that, Brittany?"

"I already told you I thought you might want your underwear back."

"And you couldn't wait? You just had to bring them up to me while I was in front of Puck and his friends? Did it ever occur to you to think before you decided to tell them I left my underwear at your house?" I asked, unable to keep the anger out of my voice. There was a small voice in the back of my head trying to remind me that it was Brittany I was yelling at. It was also trying to remind me that Brittany didn't have a vindictive bone in her body, despite all the time she spent with Quinn and me, so she couldn't have embarrassed me on purpose. A louder voice was screaming that she had just added fuel to whatever rumors Puck could come up with. In the end, that voice won out and I found myself turning on my heel before she could respond.

"Come with me," I growled at Puck when I approached the group of football guys. Puck looked like he was about to make a smartass comment but I grabbed hold of his shirt and started to drag him away from his group of friends before he could make a sound. I looked over my shoulder for a moment and saw a triumphant smirk on his face as he followed me into one of the nearby guest rooms of Azimio's house. He made a beeline for the bed as soon as he was through the doorway and I made sure to close the door. The last thing I saw before I shut Puck and myself off from the rest of the party was a pair of piercing blue eyes following my every move.

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**Author's Note:** So that was chapter 6 about three months later than I planned. :P I'm not even going to make any promises about when my next update will be because I'm getting ready to move and be all on my oooownn. Well, on my own with my two besties. Also, if you're interested in my everyday zaniness, check out my tumblr. The link is in my profile. :)


	7. Cheerio Boot Camp

**Disclaimer: **The only things I own of Glee are the DVD sets of seasons 1 & 2. **  
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**Author's Note:** Yeah... that was another long wait, wasn't it? I'm really sorry about that. I've been settling in to a new place and getting back into the swing of university life after being away from school for at least a year and a half. Throw in sleep deprivation and you have a very lazy author. Plus, it was really hard to make and resolve Brittana angst. Not cool, yo. :P I hope this makes up for the wait though.

**Author's Note 2:** I just want to give a quick thanks to everyone who reviews. I know I send a message to everyone who reviews with a thank you but I just wanted to reiterate my gratitude here. For those of you who reviewed anonymously, I'll reply at the bottom of this chapter. Anyway, you guys are awesome for putting up with me. I promise I don't take forever to update because I want more reviews. I am just a perfectionist so it takes me a long time to get chapters exactly how I want them.

A big thank you to killercereal, my lesbro for life (even though we're both girls), and whatistheretoponderabout (aka wittpa) for putting up with my ranting and for listening to me bounce ideas around. You're both awesome and make me feel so much better when I'm close to going crazy.

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After Azimio's party, the weather quickly turned from the subtle warmth left over from June to the sweltering and suffocating furnace of July. With it came a rather heated letter from Coach Sylvester demanding that all returning Cheerios attend a cheer camp starting the third week of July. That was how I found myself standing in the McKinley High School parking lot with eleven other bleary-eyed cheerleaders at five in the morning during what was supposed to be a relaxing summer vacation. I was in a mob of red and white practice uniforms, surrounded by faces I hardly recognized even though I had cheered with the same girls for little over a year. The only two faces I could point out in the small crowd were Brittany and Quinn, who were huddled together at the front of the group.

My fingers twitched when my gaze landed on the hand that rested on Brittany's shoulder; my hand should have been there, not Quinn's. Yet when Brittany looked over her shoulder and caught me in that piercing gaze, I crossed my arms over my chest, squared my shoulders, and narrowed my eyes. I watched her body sag and her eyes drop to the concrete before she turned her head back towards the charter bus. I rolled my eyes when Quinn started to rub small circles against the taller blonde's back.

I tried to convince myself I didn't care she was upset. After all, she was the one who hadn't called me since the party. What right did she have to be upset when she was the one who had chosen to avoid me? She was the reason I had spent the last two weeks lying on my couch with my cellphone resting on my chest, willing it to ring but never dialing the familiar number myself.

"Alright, ladies! It's time to prove you are all worth the prolonged suffering I go through to coach you all year!" The familiar, amplified screech brought me back to the present, which was a dark parking lot in front of the high school. Coach Sylvester stood on the top step of the bus with her trusty bullhorn obscuring most of her face.

"For those of you who are new to the Cheerio Boot Camp experience, I'm about to drop some knowledge on you. Our destination is two hours away by bus so if you think you are going to give up halfway through the training camp, I suggest saving yourself some walking by going home now." No one moved a muscle; not even after she lowered the bullhorn and stared down each and every one of us. I almost missed the twitch of her lips as she tried to hold back a smile at our dedication before she raised the megaphone once more. "Outstanding. Now get your lazy carcasses on the bus. And don't touch the driver; I don't want any of you catching failure!"

Single file, every girl in the sea of red and white clambered up the steps of the charter bus. Our shoulders were bare of backpacks and none of us carried suitcases. Sue had promised in the letter she would provide everything we needed for the two week camp. The corner of my lips dropped into a frown as I slipped into the first empty row I could find and took the seat closest to the window. Knowing Sue, we would all be wearing matching track suits for the duration of the camp.

The horrendous image disappeared from my mind when I felt the material of the seat next to me sink slightly as a warm body filled it. I looked over to find Brittany staring at the seats in front of us and my gut twisted at the blank expression covering her face. The last time I had seen that same blank stare had been in her bedroom the morning I asked her why she had slept with me. Guilt gnawed at the walls of my stomach and my hand started to act on its own, reaching towards Brittany to wipe away the neutral expression that seemed so out of place on her.

I realized what I was doing before my fingers could brush across that smooth, freckled skin and I pulled back. My fingers curled into a loose fist as I lowered my hand and let it rest at my side, my body hating me for denying the touch it was so used to giving; the one touch it needed and ached to give. I forced my gaze to focus out the window instead of on the girl sitting next to me as the bus lurched forward. It was easier said than done since the silence between us was roaring in my ears louder than the bus engine that sputtered in the background.

"Shouldn't you be sitting by Quinn?" I asked as we pulled out of the parking lot. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention and I turned away from the window to find her staring at me with her head tilted to the side. "Well?"

"Coach told me to sit here. She wants us to fix her chain," she explained, her voice void of emotion. Her bright blue eyes never left my face and I momentarily squirmed under the gaze before I remembered exactly who I was. I was Santana Lopez and no one was supposed to be able to make me squirm; not even Brittany. So, I matched her intense gaze with one of my own which made her sigh and look down at her lap as she drew patterns on her bare thigh. "Can we stop being upset now? I miss you," she asked in a voice just above a whisper and my eyes widened slightly.

"You miss me?" There was a slight nod of her head but she didn't look up from her legs. "If you missed me so much, you could have shown it a little better and called or texted. Hell, Brittany, you could have sent a letter. But you didn't do any of those things," I pointed out as I turned back to the window and watched the dark buildings pass by.

"Santana-"

"Don't. Just don't, okay?" I cut her off before she could list off whatever excuse she had planned. Mainly because I knew I would believe anything she said and I would forgive her for dropping out of my life after the party. "I obviously wasn't good enough for you to talk to after I slept with Puck so don't try talking to me now."

Silence floated between us once more and I could hear her shifting in her seat, most likely turning away from me. It took half an hour for her to break the silence with softly spoken words.

"You never called me either." I doubted I was supposed to hear her. Brittany most likely thought I was asleep since I had my head pressed against the window pane and my eyes were closed. She proved me right when the smooth skin of her fingertips brushed against my forehead as she moved some of the bangs out of my face. I resisted the urge to lean into that small touch I had missed since we had been apart. Her warm breath suddenly tickled my neck and the inside of my ear as she whispered, "I just want to be us again," and then pulled away once more. I fell asleep trying to ignore the way my skin still tingled in the places her breath had caressed.

I was painfully awakened when my head bounced against the window after the bus hit a large pothole. I couldn't stop the Spanish curse from tumbling out as I rubbed my forehead and tried to chase away the stinging sensation. Not long after I recovered from the blow to the head, the bus jerked to a stop and Brittany and I were thrown against the seats in front of us. Judging by the sound of shrieking girls and several swear words filling the air, we weren't the only ones who had been thrown from our seats. After I pulled myself back up, I looked out the window to see where the idiot bus driver had brought us.

At first, all I saw was a dirt road surrounded by woods. I started to wonder if we had blown a tire or run out of gas since we were in the middle of nowhere. Then I spotted the golf cart chained to one of the sturdier looking trees. My stomach dropped when I saw a sign that read "Property of the One and Only Sue Sylvester," in large, block letters resting on its hood.

"Off the bus, meat bags! Hustle!" Sue's amplified voice echoed through the bus and each girl hurried to do as the woman commanded. We unloaded in the same single file manner we had boarded with Quinn leading the group. Once everyone was off, we came to a halt and stared at the broad side of the bus. Coach Sylvester had opened the suitcase compartment and it was filled with several large, dull green packs. I watched as she pulled one out and shoved it into Quinn's chest.

"Strap this on, Q, and show these girls what they will be helping me carry to the campsite," she commanded and Quinn quickly did as she was told, slipping the black straps over her shoulders with ease and stepping in front of the line of girls. She paraded in front of us, turning every so often to show off the whole accessory.

What I had assumed was just one large pack was actually three packs connected to each other. At the bottom was a tightly rolled up sleeping bag. On top of that, I noticed a long, overstuffed backpack. The last part of the ensemble was another small, horizontal pack.

"Ladies, each one of these holds a tent and all the other essentials you are going to need to survive this week." Quinn twirled to show it off once more before falling back into her spot at the head of the line. "I suggest you don't lose yours on the way to the campsite. If you do, it's going to be a very uncomfortable week for you," she warned before stepping aside so we could each grab a pack of our own. While we searched for our cargo, Sue unchained the golf cart and climbed inside. By the time she had maneuvered it to the dirt road, we all had our packs on and were waiting for further instructions.

"The last five girls to the campsite better get their abdomens ready for a work out!" With that, she started driving down the dirt road. There was a moment of hesitation before Quinn started jogging after her, followed by me and the rest of the girls. I heard the bus start up behind us and I looked back to see it pulling away, taking our last chance of escape with it. I pushed that thought out of my mind and focused on the sound of my feet hitting the ground instead of the heavy weight pressing against my back.

I had no idea how long I had been running when my legs started to burn from the exertion. Sweat seemed to cover every part of my face and my eyes burned from the droplets that slipped down into them. My chest was on fire with every breath I took and the weight on my back seemed to double with each step. I shook my head, trying to fling some of the sweat off my skin but I only succeeded in making myself slightly dizzy from the movement. The only bright side to my situation was that I was nowhere near being one of the last five girls in the group.

Quinn and I were both leading the herd of cheerleaders and I glanced over to see she was just as exhausted as I was. Her face was red and some of her hair had started to fall out of her hair tie. I doubted I looked any better. What caught my eye most, however, was that Brittany was not at her side; nor was she right behind her. My eyes narrowed and my brow furrowed as I tried to figure out where the taller girl could be. I looked over my shoulder at the pathetic girls trailing behind us and searched for the lanky blonde. I didn't find her until I looked towards the very back of the pack. She was one of the last five runners and I had to do a double-take just to be sure it was her. Brittany was one of the fastest runners I knew. So what was she doing way back there?

"You are the slowest wastes of skin I have ever seen! And I once saw a group of elderly citizens go on a march for better tapioca pudding in their nursing home!" Sue's voice echoed out from the three speakers on top of the golf cart driving beside us. I forced my gaze in front of me once more so I could pay attention to where I was running. The last thing I wanted to do was trip over a rock I didn't see because I was too busy looking back at Brittany. Looking away from her, however, did not stop me from thinking about her. Annoyed that I couldn't figure out why she was so far behind, I slowed my pace. Girls sped passed me and some of them glanced back to see what in the world I was doing.

Soon I was at the back of the herd as well and running alongside one of the taller senior girls. Her dark brown curls were matted to her forehead with sweat. Whatever strands weren't trapped against her skin were frizzing out of control because of the humidity. I couldn't remember her name but I did recognize her. Despite her height, she was often at the back of the group whenever we were forced to do running exercises so it didn't surprise me that she was so far behind.

"Is there a reason you're slacking off back here, Brittany?" I asked even though I hated myself for wasting my precious breath on something as stupid as words. Especially since the girl I was talking to didn't even acknowledge my presence. I growled slightly before I dropped back even more to run right beside her. "I asked you a question, Pierce." Her last name was a foreign word on my tongue but using it had grabbed her attention.

"It's her last year her, San," she replied as she nodded towards the senior in front of us. "I wanted to make sure she didn't have to do at least one set of crunches this year," she explained and I rolled my eyes. Just because I was mad at her didn't mean I wanted her to do crunches because of some slow-ass cow who couldn't handle Sylvester's pace. Unfortunately, there was no convincing Brittany to change her mind once her heart was set on something. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I kept running next to her.

"Don't think that just because I'm doing this means I forgive you for dropping my ass after that party," I warned her after several minutes passed by. Luckily, she didn't ask why I was doing it because I wouldn't have had an answer for her. Instead, she nodded her head and focused all of her attention on the road ahead of us. I did the same and tried to forget that my only reward for reaching our destination would be an indefinite number of sit-ups.

The sun was high above the trees by the time Coach Sylvester stopped her golf cart in the middle of a large field. We came to a halt a few feet behind her, each one of us resisting the urge to collapse. My own legs felt as if they were two twigs holding up a tree house and I prayed they wouldn't give out until Coach gave us permission to sit.

"Those of you who were the last five girls to finish, come forward," Sue commanded. Brittany and I reluctantly walked to the front of the herd followed by four other girls. The older woman looked between us with her arms crossed over her chest. Finally, she settled her gaze on me and I resisted the urge to take a step back. "Selena! Has Malibu Barbie been rubbing off on you or did they forget to teach you how to count before you hopped the border?"

"Coach, we finished together," I said as my hands balled into fists. "And I'm Puerto Rican, not Mexican," I reminded her but she had already stopped paying attention to me in favor of lifting the bullhorn to her lips.

"Take the packs off, ladies, and start setting up camp. You'll find not all of you have tents because you'll be roughing it with a designated partner whose name is on a slip of paper in your bag," she announced. "Those who don't have a tent in your pack, bring the bricks that I put in there instead to the front of my cabin." She nodded her head towards the large log cabin that stood near the tree line. Once she was sure every girl had gotten the message, she lowered the bullhorn and settled her gaze back on our small group of six. "I believe you girls owe me some crunches," she reminded us.

I bit back a groan as I slid the heavy pack off of my shoulders and let it fall to the ground. It wasn't long before I was lying on my back in the grass next to it with my legs bent. I stared up at the bright blue sky for a few seconds as I tried to prepare myself for the torture I was about to put my body through. Those precious moments did not last long enough because Sue's voice was ringing in my ears far too soon. My body responded out of pure reflex when Sue started counting out each perfectly synchronized abdominal crunch. One hundred crunches and several insults later, she finally lowered the bullhorn and I was able to fall back against the hard ground without worrying about pulling myself back up. I blocked out whatever closing insult she threw at us and closed my eyes, wishing she would leave so I could get up without her seeing how sore I was.

Once I heard Coach Sylvester's retreating footsteps, I slowly got to my feet and unzipped the top part of the pack I had been carrying. To my dismay, I found a collection of dull, red bricks instead of the pieces to a tent. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brittany had opened her bag as well and was now struggling to attach two poles to one another. I watched her for a few seconds longer, almost smiling at the look of concentration on her face, before turning back to my bag.

I had to dig all the bricks out of my pack before I could find my partner's name. My stomach tightened when I removed the last brick and saw Brittany's name scrawled across the slip of paper that had been buried beneath the heavy blocks. I read over it three more times before sighing in defeat and slinging my pack over my shoulder once more. I trudged over to Brittany, who had already assembled the frame on her own. I dropped my bag to the ground when I reached her side and the sound made her jump.

"Sue made us tent buddies," I said with a sneer before I picked up the cover and threw it over the dome-shaped frame. I could see the small smile on her face out of the corner of my eye as I fought with the stakes and the strings. "Can you stop smiling at me like that? It's not like I asked to be partnered with you," I reminded her in a gruff voice as I tightened the rope around the plastic stake and moved on to the next one. Once every group was finished setting up their tent and securing them with the stakes, the week from hell really started.

Every cheer practice I had been to during my freshmen year was nothing compared to Cheerio Boot Camp. The sweltering heat covered us like a two-ton blanket, making each exercise twice as hard as it usually was. Whenever we did push-ups, it felt as if the entire world rested on my back. Whenever Sue demanded crunches, the air seemed to press against my chest and make it that much harder to fight against gravity. Wind sprints and suicides were done until each Cheerio had lost the contents of her stomach all over the grass. The worst part was, I didn't have Brittany by my side to take my mind off the grueling exercise.

We may have shared the same tent, but the last two weeks had left us awkward around each other. We were out of sync and it showed. Dance practice was a disaster since we couldn't seem to synchronize our actions, which threw off the entire squad. Aerial stunts were worse and often ended in a tangle of limbs. The worst drill of all came in the middle of the week when coach broke us into two groups of six so we could form two pyramids.

"Ladies, by the end of this week, you will have something you will find very valuable in the future," she announced once we were in our groups. Her hard, blue eyes scanned over each girl as she continued speaking. "I am going to give you the competitive edge you will need once you are thrown to the wolves in the real world. I am going to give you the will to win no matter what." When those cold eyes landed on mine, I refused to look away. She subtly nodded her approval before moving on to the second group and saying, "The last group standing is exempt from tomorrow's activities."

After she lowered the bullhorn, we hurried into formation. My own group consisted of three junior girls at the bottom, Brittany and me in the middle, and Quinn at the very top. We were a shoe-in to win since Quinn demanded nothing but perfection from anyone she was partnered with. Unfortunately, the promise of a day off was enough to spark a competitive edge in the other group as well. I realized the competition was going to be much harder than I thought when the girls across from us were still in a pyramid formation after an hour had passed. A wobbly, sloppy pyramid but a pyramid nonetheless.

By the time the sun started to sink, my arms and legs were starting to feel like over-cooked spaghetti noodles. Grey clouds had taken over the sky and the humid heat they brought with them did nothing to ease my aching, worn out body. Sweat was trickling into places I dared not think about and I was pretty sure I had gotten sunburned on my face.

"Santana! Keep your leg straight!" I jerked out of my thoughts when I heard Quinn hissing orders at me from above. I glared up at her even though I knew she couldn't see it before focusing on keeping my legs strong. It was easier said than done. Once my attention was drawn to the quiver in my leg, it became harder and harder to keep it locked in position. It was as if the more I thought about keeping perfectly straight, the harder my body fought against me. Just when my knees were about to buckle, however, I felt some of Quinn's weight lift from my hands.

I glanced over to see Brittany had straightened her posture a little more so she could take on more of Quinn's weight, giving me a chance to regain some of my strength. It was something we often took turns doing for one another during practice the year before. Unfortunately, the sun was starting to get to me and I took the action the wrong way.

"I can pull my own weight, Brittany. You don't have to do it for me," I snapped at her as I tugged on Quinn's leg.

"I'm only trying to help."

"Well, stop it. I don't need your help right now," I assured her in a clipped tone. "And when I did need your help, you weren't there."

"San, I wanted to be there."

"Then why weren't you? Why did you abandon me after I slept with Puck? Was I not good enough for you after that?" I asked, not noticing that my grip on Quinn's leg was starting to slip.

"Would you two figure this out later? Now is not the time to have an argument over that stupid pig you call a boyfriend!" Quinn shouted from above.

"Shut it, Fabray! This is none of your business!" I responded before returning my attention to Brittany, who was struggling to keep a grip on the foot resting in her hands. "Would you stop trying to help me? I told you I don't need you," I said before pulling on Quinn's leg once more. I quickly found out I pulled a little too hard when Brittany lost her footing and started falling sideways. Fortunately, she was able to regain her balance before she toppled over. Quinn, on the other hand, was not as fortunate. With a loud shriek, she lost her balance as well as the fight with gravity, causing a domino effect amongst our group.

She collided with me first, knocking me off my feet with her unexpected shift in weight. Brittany fell when Quinn's foot connected with her chin. Then the girls beneath us fell under our combined weight and soon all six of us were in a pile rather than a pyramid.

"It would appear we have a winner," Sue announced through her megaphone. "Those of you still standing, feel free to dismount in a way that will not make me lose my lunch and head to your tents," she told the group of girls who were still in formation before turning her attention on our mess of twisted limbs and bruised body parts. "You girls, on the other hand, owe me six sets of suicides. One set for each waste of skin that hit the ground," she announced before heading over to the familiar patch of grass I had grown to hate over the last few days. Quinn was the first to get up and, after suppressing a groan, I got up and followed her over. The other four girls reluctantly trailed behind me.

Six painful sets of suicides later, I struggled to navigate my aching body over to my tent. My slow footsteps came to a sudden stop when a hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. I found myself staring into Quinn's dark hazel eyes that were dangerously close to my face. I was about to tell her to choke on a breath mint but she cut me off before I could even open my mouth.

"Whatever is going on with you and Brittany, you need to fix it and fast," she ordered, jabbing her finger into my chest as she spoke. "I will not have the two of you messing up my chances of becoming head Cheerio just because you can't be civil to one another!"

"First of all, Q," I started before grabbing her wrist just as she was about to poke me again. "Keep your hands off of me. Second, whatever is going on between Brittany and me is just between the two of us, not the three of us, so keep your pristine ass out of things that aren't your business!"

"Well when you drop me on my pristine ass, things start to become my business," she argued after she yanked her hand out of my grip. "Fix it, Lopez. I don't need a depressed dancer and a stubborn bitch making me look bad," she said with narrowed eyes before shoving past me and heading for her tent. I would have chased after her and given her a real piece of my mind but my legs were already burning. I didn't want to risk them falling off altogether so I settled for cursing her under my breath as I continued my slow journey to my tent.

When I unzipped the entrance, I found that Brittany was already inside sitting cross-legged on her sleeping bag and studying the tent's thin wall. It was something she had started doing after I snapped at her for staring at me the first night we were together. I hadn't meant to sound so angry but her scrutiny had made me uncomfortable so I lashed out at her. Ever since, she made it a point to look at anything but me. Despite my abrasive attitude though, she would scoot her sleeping bag closer to mine every night when she thought I had fallen asleep.

Sometimes she would use the opportunity to just stare at me without the fear of being yelled at. She wouldn't say a word the entire time she looked me over. Instead, she would reach her hand out and lightly run it over my skin. It took a great deal of willpower to stop myself from twitching at the familiar contact. Other times, she would talk to me as if she knew I was awake; mostly about what we had done during the day and her theories on why Sue was always so angry. It was almost normal between us whenever she thought I was asleep. Unfortunately, that normalcy disappeared each morning and avoided us all day, replaced with an awkward tension instead.

That night was no different and the familiar tension enveloped us as soon as I zipped the tent shut and went to my sleeping bag, too exhausted to do anything more than pull my hair out of my sloppy ponytail before I stretched out on my sleeping bag. Even staring at the top of the tent was too tiring and soon my eyes were slipping shut. Before I knew it, I was falling asleep to the quiet sound of Brittany breathing in and out as she stared at the side of the tent.

I awoke later that evening to the sound of rain slapping against the canvas covering of the tent. A strong, howling wind whipped against our shelter, threatening to tip it over even with us in it. I jumped when a loud clap of thunder shook the ground. The noise that was closest to me, however, was the soft, tuneless humming coming from across the tent.

"Brittany, are you awake?" I asked even though I already knew the answer. The humming stopped but I didn't receive an answer. A few minutes later, I rolled over onto my side and saw Brittany's sleeping bag pressed against the wall of the tent. She had hidden herself inside and covered the opening with her pillow. When another clap of thunder echoed through the air, a whine came from the other sleeping bag and I saw the lump inside it curl into a ball.

"Britt, I heard you humming. I know you're scared," I called out to her when she didn't answer my question. Silence was the only response I received and I rolled my eyes at her attempt to give me the silent treatment. "Is this really how you're going to be then? Pretend everything is alright when you think I'm sleeping but when I'm awake and trying to talk to you, ignore me?" I asked, unable to stop the hurt from leaking into my voice as I spoke. "Fine. Go find Quinn if you're scared since I'm obviously not good enough," I said as I rolled onto my back and stared up at the dark roof.

Several minutes later, the sound of a sleeping bag sliding across the floor interrupted the sound of the rain. When I felt warm breath tickling the exposed skin of my neck, I turned once more so I was facing Brittany again. I opened my mouth to tell her she had missed her chance but the words caught in my throat when I noticed how hard she was shaking.

"I think we can connect the two sleeping bags," I suggested instead, my anger deflating altogether when I saw the way her eyes kept darting back and forth. She quickly nodded her agreement and reached towards her camping pack. She pulled out the electric lantern Coach had packed for us and turned it on so we would have a little bit more light to work with. After fumbling with the zippers a few times, we managed to get our two bags zipped into one. Soon after the small triumph, I crawled into the enlarged sleeping bag and scooted towards the edge so Brittany would have enough room for her longer frame.

"Thank you," Brittany murmured before ducking her head inside so she could avoid seeing the bright flashes of lightning that sporadically illuminated the tent. I couldn't help but smile at the action before dimming the lantern and closing my eyes so I could fall back asleep. My plans were interrupted by a soft sniffle coming from inside the sleeping bag.

I tried to ignore it. I told myself I had already been civil enough to her by offering to share my sleeping bag. I didn't need to do anything more than that. Another muffled sniffle followed it, however, and I felt my resolve crumble before I slipped further inside the conjoined sleeping bags.

"Brittany?"

"I'm okay, Santana."

"I'd find that a little easier to believe if your sniffling wasn't stopping me from getting my beauty sleep on," I pointed out. There was a long moment of silence between us before I heard Brittany shift so she was on her side facing me. It was hard to see under our covers but I could still make out Brittany's hands fidgeting in the darkness.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you up," she finally whispered. I could still see her fingers playing with one another, however, so I knew there was something else on her mind. It was just a matter of coaxing it out of her.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Brittany, your fingers are fidgeting so much it looks like they're playing an intense game of tag. That usually means something is bothering you," I pointed out. The fidgeting stopped and blue eyes glared at the hands that had betrayed her before traveling back up to meet mine.

"You're more than good enough for me, San," she finally said, her gaze never wavering. "You're my best friend and I should have been there for you after Azimio's party. I shouldn't have stayed away for so long," she admitted before a rumble of thunder echoed above us and her body tensed. Even after the thunder died down, she waited a few seconds before letting herself relax slightly. "And I really shouldn't have announced to everyone that you left your underwear at my house," she quietly added on.

"No, you definitely shouldn't have."

"I hadn't actually planned on giving them to you that way to begin with. I was just going to wait until after the party," she explained as she traced a pattern in the sleeping bag's warm interior. "I just… I saw you making out with Puck and my heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to fall out onto the floor," she said before releasing a dejected sigh.

"Puck and I have been making out for almost two years now. It never bothered you before," I reminded her, trying not to think of why it would hurt her so much to see me making out with Puck.

"Yeah, I know. I guess I just thought you would have waited a couple of days after we had sex to kiss him again." The blunt words may have been said casually but I could still hear the hurt behind them. Guilt started to press down on me since we both knew exactly what happened after Puck and I had kissed. Brittany had given me something special and I had tainted it by sleeping with Puck the very next night.

"Brittany, what I did with Puck didn't mean anything."

"That kind of makes it worse, San," she pointed out before rolling away from me. I stared at her back for a moment before irritation bubbled in my chest and spilled over.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked before I grabbed her shoulder and made her turn to look at me. "Do you think I enjoyed knowing what I did with Puck didn't mean anything? That _I_ don't mean anything? Do you think that was easy?" I took a moment to close my eyes and rein in my emotions while the thunder rolled above us. I opened them again when I felt a familiar hand resting on my bicep and found blue eyes gazing back into mine.

"You mean something to me," she told me before placing her hand under my chin and pulling me forward for a soft kiss. I relaxed into the familiar feel of her lips against mine before I remembered I was mad at her and pulled away.

"Then why did you avoid me?" I asked. When her gaze dropped away from me and focused on the ground instead, I started to fear the answer.

"I was still kind of mad at you for blowing me off for Puck," she admitted in a small voice. "I remember when you first started seeing him you told me you weren't going to stop hanging out with me just because the two of you were dating. Then, after we slept together, you told me we needed to stop hanging out while you worked things out with Puck. It hurt."

"I said that in eighth grade! How in the fuck do you still remember that?"

"I remember everything you say, San," she told me before looking up and giving me a small smile. It quickly disappeared when another loud crack of thunder shook the ground. She was about to curl up into a ball again but I reacted before she could and pulled her body against my own.

"I was a little overwhelmed that morning and I'm sorry for taking it out on you," I whispered in her ear to distract her from the sound of the storm. I frowned when I realized I could still feel her trembling in my arms. "If it makes you feel any better, I was really fucking bored during those two weeks you weren't around," I told her as the beginning of a plan started to take shape. Talking to her wasn't distracting her from the storm so I decided to try a different tactic. "See, without you around, I wasn't able to do this."

I placed a kiss against her neck as I brought my hand up to her stomach and slipped it under the white tank-top that covered her torso. My index finger started tracing circles on her abdomen as I continued to plant small kisses against her skin. I felt her muscles slowly start to relax as her focus was drawn away from the sounds outside.

"What are you doing, Santana?" she asked in a breathless voice when my hand stopped tracing patterns and started traveling towards her breasts instead. I responded by kissing a sensitive part of her neck just beneath her jawline and I smiled when I felt her whimper.

"I'm taking your mind off the storm, Britt-Britt," I told her once I pulled away from her neck. "Unless you have a problem with that?" She quickly shook her head in response and I smiled at the answer. "Good, because I really missed doing this," I said before rolling her onto her back and positioning myself so I was straddling her legs.

I leaned forward and brought my lips to hers while my hand snuck under the fabric covering her breast and started gently massaging the soft skin hidden beneath. A low whine came from the blonde before she brought one of her hands up to my face and pulled me in closer. I felt pale lips part beneath mine before a soft tongue grazed against my lower lip. I parted my own and my eyes closed as she deepened the kiss.

I couldn't stop myself from moaning when she arched into the contact and her bare thigh slid against my center. The sound was drowned out by another loud crack of thunder and I felt Brittany tense beneath me. I quickly took her mind off the storm by slipping my free hand beneath the waistband of her blue short-shorts. I spent the rest of the night giving her body a different reason to tense up even after the storm was long over.

I wasn't sure how long we spent wrapped up in one another whispering 'I'm sorry' before Brittany finally fell asleep against my side. Her head rested on my bare chest just beneath my chin and her hair would tickle my skin whenever a light breeze would blow into our tent. My brow furrowed when I felt her bangs tickle my chin for the third time in five minutes. Then I realized there shouldn't have even been a breeze if the door was zipped shut.

Curious, I pulled myself out from beneath her and maneuvered my body out of the sleeping bag. I placed a pillow under Brittany's head so it wouldn't be resting on the hard ground before I crawled over to the zip-up door of the tent. I cursed under my breath when my hand landed in a puddle right next to the entrance. After drying off my hand and getting a closer look at the door, I realized I hadn't zipped it closed all the way. I shook my head at my stupidity before pulling the zipper down all the way and returning to the sleeping bag. Brittany made a couple unintelligible noises when I slipped in beside her but she quickly settled back into a deep sleep once I made myself comfortable.

As I started to drift off into sleep though, my mind wandered back to what we had spent the night doing. To my surprise, I didn't really care that we had sex again. It felt good and was certainly a lot better than the sex I had with Puck. Besides, I had initiated it to stop Brittany from being scared. I kept telling myself that was what best friends were for; to make each other feel better when they were scared or sad or angry.

Just because I had sex with Brittany again didn't mean I was gay. I was just one friend helping out another the same way she had helped me two weeks before. There was a tiny part of myself, however, that refused to believe my mantra no matter how many times I reiterated it. I found it was easier to ignore that part rather than deal with what it was trying to tell me.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I totally almost wrote a sex scene at the end there. I mean, I was even in the middle of typing it up! Then I nearly had a heart attack due to what I was writing so I decided I should probably just do what I did before and fade out. :P So once again, I am sorry. This story is going to remain T because my poor heart cannot handle writing smut. I was also going to do more with the Cheerio Boot Camp but I didn't want to ramble pointlessly. Maybe I'll write a one-shot that goes on to talk about what happened during the rest of the camp. Anyway, on to the Anonymous reviews!

**Crimson Joy:** Sorry... It kind of was 3 months or so. :P My bad.  
**Liz:** Thanks! I updated as soon as I could. Sorry it took so long.  
**Hey:** Thank you for the review! I'm glad you find it heartwarming. :) As for the lack of a sex scene in chapter 5, the only thing I found anti-climactic about it was that you didn't get to see the girls actually climax. :P I thought I did a well enough job portraying their emotions before and after without actually having to show what was going on. Like I said in that chapter, me writing smut would be a train wreck so it was just better for me to leave it out.


	8. Promises Made

**Author's Note:** HEY! This chapter didn't take three months to get up! :D Aren't you all proud of me? Still took far too long for my liking, but I've been doing a lot of writing for school, so my brain has not been focused on fanfiction. That, and Tumblr. Sorry, guys! I tried to make this chapter special for you. Notice the **M** rating? Eh? Eeeh? Maybe I actually added a little something special for you guys at the end that involves sexy times. ;D It also isn't as long as other chapters, but I did try to pack a bit of enjoyable stuff into this chapter. :]  
**Author's Note 2:** This chapter has a wee bit of Spanish in it. Translations are provided at the end. It was also shown in the latest episode that her grandmother has a Dominican flag. Well... Fuq da police. I was here first!  
**PS: **killercereal, I win!

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After we survived the week of hell in Sylvester's Cheerio boot camp, the rest of the summer was spent making up for the time Brittany and I had lost during our fight. The few weeks before school started again found us either at her aunt's house, where we helped bake and practiced dance to work off the desserts we sampled, or at my own house, where we flipped through magazines and watched television while ignoring my abuelos.

On our last night of freedom, the two of us were curled up on the living room couch under my black and brown quilt while a horror movie flickered across the television screen. My abuelos sat in their chairs on the other side of the room, my grandmother knitting with expert fingers while my grandfather dozed with his chin tucked against his chest as he snored. The television was the only source of light aside from the small lamp on the table next to my grandmother's chair.

Under the cover of darkness, Brittany's arm had slipped behind my back and her hand was now resting on my hip. She would occasionally sneak her hand beneath my shirt and drag her finger along my side, tracing a path from my hip bone up to my bra. Her head rested on my shoulder and, whenever she was certain my abuela couldn't see, she would turn slightly and place a kiss on my exposed collarbone or in the hollow of my neck. During one particularly dark scene in the movie, she got braver and slipped her hand beneath my bra.

My breath caught and my heart thudded against my ribcage as I glanced over at my abuelos. Before I could worry about one of them catching us, Brittany's lips were beneath my ear, asking if we could go up to my room. I looked at my grandparents once more before nodding my head. I felt her smile and then press those lips against my skin for a quick kiss before she escaped my blanket and hurried up the stairs.

"Brittany and I are going to make sure we have everything for school tomorrow," I announced, startling my abuelo out of his light sleep. He looked around the dark living room a few times, as if he had forgotten where he was, before shooing me away.

"Ayuda tu amiga, Santanita. No necesitas nuestro permiso," he replied with a lopsided smile. The weight of lying to him made the smile I flashed in return that much harder to force.

"Gracias, abuelito," I said, only to have him wave me off once more. I shook my head and went upstairs after the sound of soft snores reached my ears. When I opened my bedroom door, I found Brittany sitting on the edge of my bed with one leg dangling off the mattress and the other tucked beneath her. I made sure the door closed with a soft click before joining Brittany on the bed.

"You really shouldn't do that to me when my grandparents are in the same room," I whispered, still paranoid that someone would walk upstairs and hear us.

"Why? Do they have x-ray vision?" she asked with a laugh. Her eyes were twinkling as she leaned in closer to me. I was about to answer when her lips on mine cut me off. She pulled away before the kiss could get far and rested her forehead against mine. "How else was I supposed to let you know why I wanted to go upstairs?"

I didn't have an answer for her so I replied by continuing what she had started. It didn't take long for her to readjust our bodies so that I was lying on the bed and she was hovering above me, one hand pressed against the mattress supporting her bodyweight while the other snaked under my shirt once more. Soon that hand traveled to my back and I pulled my torso away from the bed so she could unclasp my bra and pull off my shirt. Once the obstacles were removed and dropped carelessly over the side of the bed, her roaming fingers returned to my breasts. I couldn't stop the quiet whimper that escaped from my mouth and fled into hers when she trailed feather-light touches along my skin.

Despite how good the familiar touch felt, I still found myself wishing the lights were off. I couldn't help but worry that one of my grandparents would walk in and find Brittany on top of me, her hand on my bare chest and her knee positioned between my legs. If we turned off the light, though, there was a chance someone would walk in to see why Brittany and I weren't going over a school supply checklist.

"San, what's wrong?"

I hadn't noticed she had pulled her lips away from mine until I felt her breathing those words against my cheek. I turned my head to find a pair of darkened blue eyes staring at me. They moved back and forth, searching my face for an answer.

"Nothing's wrong," I replied, telling my second lie of the night even though I knew she would see through it. "Do you think we could maybe turn Sweet Valley High on, though?" I asked, hoping she would understand. She gave me a small smile before pushing herself off of the bed and walking over to the television. Once she had the DVD player set up, she walked over to the light switch and flipped it so the room was blanketed in shadows. She came back to the bed, the grey light from the television dancing over her as she climbed onto the mattress.

"Is that better?" she asked as she pulled herself over my body once more and placed her hands on either side of my head. I nodded, which made another small smile appear on her face before she leaned in and lightly trailed soft lips across my own. The blanket beneath us shifted and I realized it was because Brittany was freeing it from our bodies so she could shield us from the world. Any remaining worries I had left in my mind were forgotten when she pulled back from my lips and moved down to my neck.

Her mouth lingered over my pulse point for a few moments before moving down to my collarbone. I tried to keep my hands still, to keep them flat against the bed so I wouldn't interrupt the girl who was slowly moving her way down to my bare breasts, but the way she kept darting her tongue out to meet my skin was driving me insane. My hands curled into fists around my sheets when she shifted her leg so her thigh was rubbing against my center while her mouth dropped soft kisses on my skin, starting just beneath my breasts and traveling further south. I rocked my hips against her thigh, trying to ease the pressure I could feel building inside, until the weight of her leg disappeared. I bit back a disappointed whimper before I realized my shorts were sliding off, quickly followed by the underwear hidden beneath them.

My back arched when I felt her tongue against my hip-bone, so close to where I needed her to be, yet miles away. I groaned when she pulled away from my skin, but she muffled the sound by sliding back up my body and covering my mouth with her own. Her soft tongue parted my lips as her hand slid down to my center and my muscles tightened when two slender fingers slipped inside. I broke the kiss between us and buried my face into the crook of her neck, trying hard to stay quiet as those fingers slid deeper inside, pulled back slightly, and then slipped further in again. There was a sharp intake of breath when her thumb brushed against sensitive folds of skin. I had to bite down on her shoulder to stop myself from crying out when I finally felt the tension leave my muscles.

Soft words intermingled with light kisses pressing against my skin as I came down from the high she had caused. My breath was coming in short pants as I fell back against the mattress and looked at Brittany, who had rolled over so she could lay on her side and watch me. I rolled my eyes at the satisfied smile on her face and turned away from her, only to feel her arms wrap themselves around me and pull me in closer.

"Why are you still wearing your clothes?" I complained once I had control over my breathing. If she was going to insist on cuddling, I was going to insist on her at least removing her shorts; the rough fabric wasn't comfortable against my bare skin. Brittany got the hint and pulled away for a moment so she could take off the offending articles of clothing. Once she was just as naked as I was, she wrapped me in her arms again. I enjoyed the feel of her bare breasts pressing against my skin for a few minutes before I rolled over so I was facing her.

My eyes were drawn to the mark I had left on her shoulder. Instead of apologizing for it, I pressed my lips against the reddened skin. What started as me trying to make up for the bite mark, however, ended with me returning the favor.

Later that night, the two of us were fully clothed once more and Sweet Valley was still playing on the television. I would have paid more attention to the show if a certain blonde hadn't fallen asleep against my shoulder. I was too distracted by Brittany's warm breath against my neck and the weight of her arm resting over my stomach to pay attention to the twins on the screen. Her blonde locks of hair mingled with the darker strands of my own, tangling together the way our bodies had earlier. I could see her eyes moving beneath closed lids and I briefly wondered what she was dreaming about.

When I caught myself coming up with hypothetical dreams the blonde could be having, I shook my head and took a moment to remind myself that I was Santana Lopez. I didn't worry about anyone's dreams but my own. So why couldn't I picture my dreams without Brittany in them?

"What the fuck am I thinking?" I whispered as I tilted my head back and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm not gay," I quietly reassured myself while I watched shadows flicker over the wood. So why would I rather imagine a future with my best friend than my boyfriend? I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, trying to not to think about the implications of my thoughts. "Because Puck sucks," I finally said. It was the only decision I could make that wouldn't leave me with more questions than answers. I was saved from my thoughts when Brittany's cellphone rang. I reached over the sleeping girl and grabbed the phone, smiling when I saw the name on the caller ID.

"Hey, Hannah. Are you here?"

"Pulling up to your house now," she answered. Sure enough, when I looked out my window, I could see a pair of headlights coming down the street. "Are you holding Brittany's phone hostage again?"

"No. She just fell asleep while we were watching TV. I didn't want you to worry because no one answered."

"Santana, you have no idea how much I worry over that girl even when she _does_ answer the phone," Hannah remarked and I tried hard not to laugh, which lead to me snorting instead. The noise made sleepy eyes flutter open and stare at the phone in my hand. I mouthed that it was her aunt when I saw the questioning look in her eyes. Brittany nodded her head before climbing out of bed to look for the bag she had brought with her.

"She's up now. We won't make you wait long," I promised the older woman. After we exchanged goodbyes, I hung up and went to help Brittany find the elusive duffel bag. Several minutes later, we found it shoved under the bed, hidden behind the sheets we had kicked off the bed earlier that night.

Once we were sure she had everything, I accompanied Brittany downstairs to the front door, where she left me with a quick kiss on the cheek and a promise to pick me up for school the next morning. I waved goodbye to her and her aunt until the silver SUV pulled away from the sidewalk and started down the street. After the car was out of sight, I turned to go back upstairs, only to find my grandmother blocking my path with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Abuelita."

"Don't you 'Abuelita' me," she warned as her eyes traveled up and down my body. I struggled not to cringe under the inspection, especially when I remembered what Brittany had been doing to my body a few hours ago. "I don't like that girl hanging around you. I've heard things about her."

"Yeah?" I asked in a level voice despite how fast my heart was beating. "What kind of things?"

"You know what kind of things. Sinful things. Things young girls should not be doing. Things _no_ girls should be doing," my abuela replied and I felt my heart stop for a moment. "I've seen the way she looks at you, Santana, and I will not have una tortillera sucia en esta casa. Especially if she is too stupid to keep it hidden."

"Brittany is not stupid!" I hissed, taking a step closer to my abuela. I was breathing heavily as I towered over the small woman and my teeth were grinding together while I tried to put words to what I was feeling. "Just because she doesn't keep her mind closed off to the world the way you do doesn't make her stupid," I said, my voice wavering. "And just because she loves every damn person in the world doesn't make her a lesbian. It makes her beautiful."

"She may love everyone, Santana, but that stupid gringa is _in_ love with you," she said in a low voice, wagging her finger at me as she spoke. "And if she keeps hanging around the way she does, you're going to catch the shame she carries."

Seconds ticked by as my grandmother and I stared each other down. I was doing my best to control my temper, but her words echoed around my skull, taunting me. Neither one of us broke eye contact until the front door opened again and my parents walked in. The two of them looked between my abuela and me before my father finally asked what was going on.

"Nothing. I was just telling Santana how lucky she is to have someone who can stand to love a face of garbage like her own," she replied for the both of us. "Too bad the only one who can love it is some girl who deserves to rot," she added on before spitting on the floor.

"¡Cállate la boca!" I shrieked as I lunged at my grandmother, only to jerk backwards when my father grabbed me by the shoulders. My Papi was not a weak man, but I could feel him struggling to keep a grip on me as I tried to squirm out of his hands. "Don't you talk about her like that! You don't even know her!"

"Mama, maybe you should go to bed," my mother said in a soft voice. "It's late and you're saying things you don't mean."

"I know exactly what I mean, Alejandra, and I will not have that friend of hers coming over here anymore," my abuela replied before turning on her heel and leaving me in the foyer with my parents.

My body trembled beneath my father's hands as I watched her walk away. I wanted to call out to her, to make her understand that Brittany did not deserve to be talked about like that. Unfortunately, my throat seemed to close in on itself so no words could escape. I could hear my father telling me to take several deep breaths, and I followed his instructions as best I could. It wasn't until I finally stopped shaking that I realized my cheeks were wet.

"Shit," I muttered as I wiped the back of my hand across my eyes. It didn't make much difference since tears kept leaking out despite how hard I tried to stop them.

"What did we just walk in on?" my mother asked. She placed a hand on my forearm, trying to comfort me with touch in case words wouldn't work. "Was she talking about Brittany?" she asked when I didn't respond. I simply nodded before turning to bury my face into her shoulder. I hadn't cried in front of my parents since the day I beat up Puckerman for spitting on me, but the tight feeling in my chest was forcing the tears out faster than I could stop them. I felt my mother's arms wrap around me, followed by my father placing his hand on my shoulder again.

"Your abuela does not run this household, Cariño," my father reminded me. "Brittany is your friend and she will always be allowed here as long as she continues to make you happy," he assured me before gently squeezing my shoulder.

"Thank you, Papi," I quietly replied as I pulled away from my mother. My eyes still burned from crying, but the words had momentarily stopped the tears. "I think I should probably go to bed now. School and all tomorrow," I told them after a few quiet sniffles. I needed to get away from the foyer and the vile words my grandmother had used against the beautiful girl I was lucky enough to call my best friend.

"Sure, mija. We'll see you in the morning," my mother said with a nod before sharing a look with my father, who nodded in response. "We'll also be sure to have a word with your grandmother tonight about Brittany."

"Thank you," I whispered before escaping upstairs to the safety of my bedroom.

After the door slammed shut behind me, I climbed under the blankets and was greeted by a smell that I could only describe as Brittany. I breathed in the scent of wildflowers that her body wash always seemed to leave behind, and felt my body lose some of the tension it had been carrying. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths, slowly counting to ten with each one before exhaling. No matter how hard I tried to clear out my mind, though, my grandmother's words kept circling my head, forcing me to examine them. I fell asleep wondering how, exactly, Brittany looked at me.

We stopped hanging out at my house soon after my argument with abuela. I was tired of the old woman sending dirty looks at Brittany and insulting her in Spanish. No matter how many times she asked me, I never told her what my grandmother was saying. She didn't need to know what kind of insults a crazy, old woman was slinging at her.

Instead of vegetating at my house, we would spend our free time at Brittany's or with Quinn. Hanging out with Quinn was only slightly better than being around my abuela, but better nonetheless. At least, it was until she thought it would be a fantastic idea to join the glee club.

"You're kidding, right?" I asked when she told us her plan to infiltrate the club of losers. The file I had been dragging over my nails slowed to a stop and I studied her face for the tiniest twitch of her facial muscles. I groaned and dropped the nail file on the bed when she arched her eyebrow in response. "Quinn, that's social suicide. I am not killing my reputation just so you can keep a leash on Frankenteen," I protested before looking over at the blonde sitting in the corner. Brittany didn't seem to notice the argument going on. She was too immersed in her fashion magazine to care. I sighed, realizing I had no back up at the moment, before I turned back to Quinn. "If Finn really wants Rachel's berry, then he doesn't deserve you."

"This isn't a matter of him deserving me, Santana," she pointed out. "Do you know what will happen to us if my boyfriend leaves me for that hobbit?"

"Do you think if they hooked up they would make a baby that would grow up to be a normal height?" Brittany asked, not bothering to look up from the magazine she was scribbling in.

"Ew, Brittany. I don't want to think about the ogre and the troll making troglodyte children," I said before making several gagging noises.

"Could you stop insulting my boyfriend for a second and just listen to me?" she asked. I had been on the receiving end of Quinn's glare far too many times to be intimidated by the one she was giving me.

"Alright. Go ahead and divulge your 'big plans' to stop Berry from taking your man meat back to the shire," I said with a flourish of my hand before lying back on her bed. If I was going to be forced to listen to her talk about Finn, I was going to be comfortable doing it. I felt the edge of the mattress dip before a warm body laid down next to me. "We're waiting, Fabray. Don't keep us here all night."

"Sorry. I was distracted by the amount of gay going on in my bedroom."

"What did you just say?" I snapped, pulling myself up into a sitting position once more. Green eyes locked onto mine and once again her eyebrow arched. "Don't give me that fucking look. What did you say?"

"Don't act like you didn't hear me."

"Okay, I know you're not calling Brittz and me gay when you're the one who wants to join some fucking club for show choir!" I snapped at her. Quinn opened her mouth, but promptly shut it again, biting off whatever words were about to escape. The muscles in her jaw were clenching as she struggled to stop herself from saying whatever had crossed her mind. I was about to tell her to spit it out when I felt soft skin pressing against the side of my hand. I looked down to find Brittany's pinky wrapping itself around mine. I followed the arm it belonged to up to her face and found Brittany giving me a small smile. I shook my head and sighed before returning my attention to the other blonde in the room.

"Anyway," Quinn started once she was sure I wasn't going to explode on her, "I was thinking we could join the club and, I don't know, just give Manhands a gentle push away from Finn. Maybe help her find someone else to obsess over," she suggested. "Maybe someone like Jacob Israel."

"I would not wish Jew-Fro on my worst enemy. Plus, there's that whole risk of, you know, her not falling for that idiotic plan," I remarked, earning a giggle from Brittany. "I think the best you're going to be able to do is just keep an eye out and you can do that from outside the glee club."

"I am not leaving Finn in a room with Berry without supervision, Santana!" Quinn snapped. "You're so worried about losing your popularity and protecting your reputation? If we don't stop that thing from climbing all over him, you won't have a reputation worth protecting."

"Screw you, Quinn. Brittany and I are popular enough on our own. It will be your reputation down the drain, not ours."

"You don't believe that and we both know it," she said, calling my bluff. "There's a reason they call us The Unholy Trinity. All three of us kind of need to be together for it to work," she reminded me. I opened my mouth to give some sort of rebuke, but nothing came out. I hated when Quinn was right.

"Fine, Fabray. If, by some miracle, you manage to convince Coach Sylvester to agree to this, we'll help you keep Finn away from Rachel's berry bush," I conceded. I immediately regretted the decision when a smug smile spread across her face. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we have homework we need to finish for Spanish," I told her as I got up from the bed. Brittany got up as well and grabbed our Cheerios jackets off of Quinn's chair. As I was sliding mine on, a thought struck me. "Great. Now we get to spend extra time with Schuester. As if I don't get enough of him in my day."

"I still don't understand why you're in his Spanish class. Isn't that cheating or something?" Quinn asked as she turned her chair towards her desk so she could use the laptop. After a few keystrokes, she was logged in and I could just barely see the corners of Rachel Berry's Myspace page from behind her head. Sometimes I worried about her obsession with the hobbit. Then I would remember that Quinn was kind of a bitch and the worries would disappear like magic.

"Just because I'm Hispanic doesn't mean I can fluently speak Spanish and it's kind of racist of you to just assume I can," I pointed out as I slung my bag over my shoulder. The blonde rolled her eyes at my response and turned her attention to the computer screen. Brittany and I left her alone so she could troll Rachel's page in privacy. Brittany waved to Quinn's parents on our way out and I managed a quick goodbye before we walked through the door.

"Santana, why did you lie to Quinn?" she asked once we were halfway down the street. Her question reached my ears on a light breeze and I pulled the Cheerios jacket tighter against my body to ward away the slight chill the wind brought with it.

"I didn't lie to her. I meant it when I said Finn doesn't deserve her."

"Not about Finn. I knew you were telling the truth when you said that," Brittany said with a light laugh as she bumped her hip into mine. "I meant about the Spanish thing. I know you can speak it. Why did you tell her you couldn't?"

"I didn't lie about that, either, Britt. I just didn't answer the question," I pointed out. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket and stared down at the ground, hoping she would drop the subject.

"You know what I mean, San, so stop avoiding my question."

"I didn't answer the question because it's none of her business. Okay, Britt? Is that a good enough reason?"

"Yeah, but I don't think it's the real one," she remarked before she came to a stop. My own feet stopped moving as well, and I lifted my gaze from the sidewalk to see her head tilted to the side as she studied me. "You didn't want to tell her because I'm the reason you're still taking the class."

"Britt-"

"Don't try to tell me it isn't true. Especially after you spend the whole class sleeping and still ace the tests."

"So maybe I need a class where I can sleep and still pass. Sue me," I countered before I started walking again. I quickened my pace when I heard her footsteps catching up to me, but her longer legs easily covered the distance between us and then some. Before I knew it, she was standing in front of me and I barely managed to stop myself before I collided with her.

"I want you to drop Spanish class and take something else, San. A class that's right for you." She crossed her arms over her chest when I didn't answer. "Do you understand? I don't want you to stay behind because of me. It isn't too late for you to transfer into a smart class."

"Are you trying to say Spanish is a dumb class? Glad you think so much of my language," I said, trying to think of some way out of the conversation we were having.

"It isn't the class that's dumb," she pointed out with a sigh before she latched onto my arm and lead me to the edge of the sidewalk. She pulled me down to the ground with her and then leaned against me with her arms wrapped around the forearm she had pulled me by. Several cars drove by and only a handful of people passed behind us, but no one gave us a second glance.

"You're not dumb, you know," I said after several minutes of listening to the sound of her breathing. My hand traveled to her knee and gave it a squeeze. I had intended to move my hand back to the warmth of my pocket until she ran hers down my arm and slid her palm beneath mine.

"Pretty sure you're the only one who would ever say that about me," she replied with a shrug before rubbing her thumb along my index finger. When I looked over at her, she was staring down at our clasped hands and her mouth was drawn in a tight line.

"Well, the ones who don't say it are idiots and aren't smart enough to know how you think," I assured her. I bumped our shoulders together in an attempt to get her to smile, but the neutral expression was there to stay. "Britt, you know I don't like when you do this to yourself. There is so much more to being smart than knowing another language or being able to do math in your head."

"I know. I just…" She sighed before looking up at the darkening sky. I followed her gaze and watched a group of clouds slowly cut across the sea of pink and purple as I waited for Brittany to gather her thoughts. When she was finally ready, she gave my hand a squeeze and I returned my gaze to her lightly freckled face. "I just want to be the same way everyone else is so you won't have to worry about me so much," she said before ducking her head so she could look at the pavement.

"Brittz, if you were like everyone else, we wouldn't be such good friends," I told her. That made her jerk her head up so fast that I thought heard her neck crack. "If you were just like everyone else, you wouldn't understand me. Get it?"

"Yeah…" She nodded before resting her chin on my shoulder and staring at me. "I take it back. I don't think I'd like living in a world where we aren't best friends," she said as a smile finally inched across her face. However, it was quickly replaced by a frown. "I don't know if I want to be in glee, San. That creepy robo-kid is in it. And what if the room smells like corn syrup because of all the slushies?"

"I don't think you have to worry about us actually joining, B," I said with a chuckle. "There's no way Coach will agree to us cutting time from her precious Cheerios squad to dance around with a bunch of losers. She'd be too worried about us catching their mediocrity."

"Alright, but if we do get permission, you have to sit next to me the whole time so Rachel can't. I don't like when she talks," she told me before pressing a quick kiss to my jaw. "You also have to drop the Spanish class and pick a real one," she added on after she pulled away. "Promise?"

"I promise." I wrapped my pinky finger around hers and the smile returned to her face. "Now come on," I said, tugging on her hand as I got to my feet. "I wasn't lying to Quinn when I said we had homework to do."

Our pinkies stayed linked together as we walked to her aunt's house. I wasn't too worried about my promise to drop the Spanish class. It wasn't like Sylvester was going to let us skip Cheerio practice once a week just so we could sing and dance in some conga line of losers.

* * *

Translations

**Abuelos** - _Grandparents_  
**Ayuda tu amiga, Santanita. No necesitas nuestro permiso.** - _Help your friend, Santana. You don't need our permission._  
**Una tortillera sucia en esta casa** - _a dirty dyke in this house._  
**¡Cállate la boca!** - _Shut your mouth!_  
**Cariño** - _Darling_

**Author's Note:** I'm not really sure what was going through my head when I wrote this, but I went with it. :P I apologize if I fucked up the smut scene. I told you there was a reason I didn't do that shit. Plus, I got bored/lazy halfway through, which is why you didn't get a description of Santana returning the favor. Find me on Tumblr if you want to ask questions about the story or feel like giving me like... hate mail or something. I'd prefer questions and fanmail haha. Here it is, if you're interested: **skillzyo . tumblr . com**

**Sidenote: Quinn's "Big plans" are credited to Sim Spoofs by SIMGM on YouTube. Running gag for their Season 2 Finale spoof. They're extremely funny so people should definitely check them out. :)  
**


	9. Promises Kept

**Author's Note:** Ah! I'm back. Please don't throw things at me for taking so long to update! If you do, I'll uh... use my lesbro killercereal as a shield. You wouldn't want to accidentally hit her, would you? You'll risk breaking her sense of humor! Anyway, here's chapter 9!

* * *

I had been sent to the counselor's office a total of three times my freshman year. Each of those visits had been involuntary, a repercussion of me telling it how it was. I left those meetings with pamphlets that suggested tips for anger management, which were promptly thrown into the nearest garbage can I could find. Now I found myself staring at the door to the counselor's office for an entirely different reason. I closed my eyes and whispered a curse under my breath before I turned the handle. I chuckled when the door creaked and startled the doe-eyed redhead organizing the pencils on her desk.

"Santana!" she squeaked as she smoothed out her slightly rumpled blouse. "I um… No one told me they needed me to talk to you today," she said while I dropped my backpack on the floor and took a seat in front of her desk.

"That's because no one sent me," I replied with a shrug. "Well, none of the teachers anyway."

"Oh." It was the only word spoken between us for several long seconds before she finally remembered students didn't usually come to her office to hang out with her. "Well, it's nice to see you finally taking an active role in controlling your temper. I just handed the last of those particular pamphlets to Mr. Karofsky, but you could probably find them in the garbage outside my office if Mr. Kidney hasn't changed it yet. Or, if you want to talk something out-"

"What? Hold up. I'm not here to talk about the so-called anger issues everyone seems to think I have," I objected. Her mouth closed with a click and her face turned almost as red as her hair once my words sank in. "And as dope as you are, Ms. P., I don't really think I wanna spend any more time talking to you than I have to."

"Oh," she repeated before folding her hands and placing them on the table. "Well then, what was it you needed, Santana?"

"I need to switch my Spanish class for something a little more… challenging." I finished the sentence with gritted teeth. I couldn't believe I was giving up my easiest class of the day because Quinn fucking Fabray had somehow managed to convince coach Sylvester to let us join the glee club.

"Really? Good for you! Most of the students who want to change classes are trying to get into easier ones. I don't know why they insist on jeopardizing their college applications just because they want a free napping period," she babbled as she leaned down to open a drawer. Without my permission, my eyes dropped to the small amount of cleavage her bright yellow top allowed. When I realized I was staring, I jerked my head up so fast I was pretty sure I gave myself whiplash.

"So did you have any ideas for what class you wanted to take?" she asked once she had pulled a notepad out of the drawer. Her free hand hovered over the straight row of pencils on her desk for several seconds before she sighed and put the notepad back in the drawer. She scooted over to the computer instead. It whirred to life after a few shakes of the mouse and, after logging herself in, she turned and focused amber eyes on me.

"Not really. I just need a new one so Brittany won't get pissed at me," I replied with a shrug. She waited for me to expand on my answer, but when an explanation didn't come, she turned to face the computer screen.

"And how is Brittany? I haven't seen her since the pigeon incident."

"If you're asking if she's been keeping anymore injured birds in her locker, the answer is no."

"Oh, no. I just wanted to know how she's doing. She's a sweet girl," she assured me. "Do you like woodshop?"

"Seriously? Do I look like a girl who enjoys woodshop?"

"Okay. Woodshop is off the list then. How about home economics?" she asked. I scoffed and shook my head in response, which elicited a sigh from the older woman.

For the next half hour, Ms. Pillsbury rattled off possible class choices while I distracted myself by filing my nails. By the time the bell rang for second period, I had finally decided on some literature class. It was one that required the least amount of effort since I could pass using spark notes.

"It was a pleasure meeting with you, Santana. And try to look over those pamphlets to see if there are any classes you might be interested in taking next semester," she told me as I stood up from my seat. I looked down at the mentioned pamphlets in my hand and shook my head at some of the titles.

"Oh yeah. I'm sure 'Baking**:** It's Not Just for Housewives Anymore' will be super eye-opening," I remarked before I grabbed my backpack and headed out the door. I tossed the pamphlets she had given me into the trashcan outside her office and headed for my locker. I wasn't surprised to see Brittany waiting beside it.

"Hey, San," she greeted me with a smile when I approached her. She bounced in place as she watched me grab my books. "Quinn said we need to meet up in the choir room early during lunch so we can practice one more time."

"Awesome." I slammed the locker shut, scaring a couple younger students that walked by, and shoved my books into my bag. "Not only have I lost my nap class, but now I get to spend my lunch hour doing some silly song and dance. Wonderful," I said as I slung my bag over my shoulder once more and started down the hall with Brittany at my side.

"At least you don't have to see Mr. Schue twice a day like Quinn and me," Brittany pointed out.

"I would still only see him once a day if Fabray could keep her boyfriend in line," I grumbled, but I knew she had a point. If there was one good thing that had come out of my deal with Brittany, it was that I wouldn't have to deal with Schuester's inability to teach Spanish. Knowing she had made her point, Brittany bumped her hand against mine and my pinky latched onto hers out of reflex. The students parted as we walked through the hall, and I couldn't help but wonder how much longer that would last once people found out we were joining glee.

"It can't be all bad. We'll be sitting next to each other," she reminded me as we approached Mr. Schuester's classroom. We stopped outside the door, and I hesitated before I pulled my hand away from hers. I felt like I was abandoning her despite the fact that my class transfer had been her idea.

"Are you sure about this? I can still go back to Ms. P. and tell her I changed my mind," I offered. She shook her head and placed her hand on my shoulder.

"It's just Spanish, Santana. If I need help, I'll ask Quinn," she promised. "And you can still come over after Cheerios for our special study sessions."

"Oh yeah. Because we really get a lot of studying done," I remarked. Still, the words brought a smile to my face and loosened the knot of worry in my stomach. "Text me if Q can't help you," I said. She squeezed my shoulder in response before heading into the classroom, leaving me to my own devices. I watched her take a seat next to Quinn, who was glaring at the back of Finn's head. Oh yeah. He definitely wasn't getting out of the doghouse any time soon. I left Brittany with a quick wave before making my way to my new class.

Just as I had predicted, my lit class would be easy enough to pass with a minimal amount of effort. As long as I made it look like I was scribbling notes, the teacher wouldn't call on me. Not that I wasn't writing notes. They just happened to be for Brittany. When the class ended, I had a page of my wandering thoughts written down, along with a few facts I had deemed interesting. I folded the paper and tucked it inside my bra for safekeeping.

The note stayed against my skin until I met Brittany after third period. I found her leaning against our lockers doodling on a yellow folder. A group of girls passed by her, each of them giving her a friendly wave which she returned with a small one of her own. When they got close to me, they ducked their heads and shuffled a little closer to the other side of the hallway. Satisfied with that small demonstration of social power, I continued walking towards Brittany. After a quick 'hey', I told her I had something for her.

I felt her eyes follow my hand down to my chest as I slipped it under my Cheerio top and fished for the elusive paper. When I finally pulled it out and looked back up at Brittany, her gaze was still focused on my chest and her teeth held her lower lip hostage. It wasn't the first time I had seen that particular expression.

Two days prior, during Celibacy Club, she had stared at me like that when I modeled the Cheerio skirt for the rest of the girls. Judging by the way her eyes had darkened and lingered on my bare thighs, her thoughts were far from celibate that afternoon. I assumed similar thoughts were running through her head now, so I interrupted them by waving the folded paper in her line of sight. She jerked her head up so her gaze met mine, her usually bright eyes clouded over.

"I didn't have anyone to talk to second period since you made me switch, so I did the next best thing," I explained, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered to life under her stare. I held the note out towards her and she took it from my hand with gentle fingers. A small smile formed on her face when she unfolded the paper and started reading.

"Quinn talked to Finn all period," she said while her eyes scanned the note. "He's not very happy that we're joining glee."

"You'd think the oaf would be glad to spend more time with his girlfriend instead of the troll," I sighed as I opened my locker and shoved my books inside. Brittany shrugged in response, more interested in my rambling letter than Quinn and Finn's relationship troubles. I hoped for the school's sake that he didn't actually have a wandering eye. If Rachel really had captured his attention, the McKinley football team would be down a quarterback due to justifiable homicide.

"I don't have anything to give you back, San," Brittany said with a slight pout once she finished reading. She slid the note into the folder she had been drawing on and then put the folder and her pencil in my locker.

"Well how about you just return the favor by accompanying me to the choir room?" I asked before I closed the locker and started down the hallway. Brittany didn't miss a beat and was soon walking beside me through the deserted corridor. Most of the other students were in the cafeteria or eating outside while Brittany and I would be stuck auditioning for social suicide.

When we reached the choir room, we found Quinn leaning against the piano, her thumbs flying across the keypad of her cellphone. Her eyes were narrowed into a glare, as if she was trying to make the phone combust. I almost felt bad for whoever was on the receiving end of the text message.

"Trouble in paradise, Q?" I asked. The glare she had been directing at the phone shifted to me for a moment before she flipped the phone shut and set it next to the small stereo on the piano. "I'll take that as a yes," I said with a chuckle.

"Shut it, Santana," she snapped as she fiddled with the volume of the stereo and hit the play button. "Stop prying into my love life so we can practice before Mr. Schue gets here," she said as she walked to the center of the choir room. I rolled my eyes and stepped into place behind her with Brittany at my side.

Mr. Schuester walked into the choir room after the second rehearsal of our performance. The way his eyes widened when he saw us waiting for him made me think he hadn't expected us to show. He probably thought Quinn was joking when she requested a chance to audition.

"I'm still a little confused," he admitted as he took a seat at the piano. "Sylvester kind of gave me the impression that I wouldn't have a chance of recruiting even the lowliest Cheerio for glee. You guys are…"

"We're the best of the best," Quinn finished for him with a smirk. "We know. We also know this is a little unexpected, but my boyfriend just joined. You know… Finn? And we were just thinking about how adorable it would be if the school's power couple sang a duet or two together."

"Besides, if you have our fine asses in the club, maybe people will stop throwing rotten fruit during the performances," I supplied. Quinn gave me a pointed look and I shrugged. "Just sayin'."

"Well, show me what you got, I guess, and I'll try to find a place for you," he said with a nod. He looked at me when he added on, "And try to watch your language."

"I can't do that without a mirror," Brittany remarked. Mr. Schuester stared at her for several seconds. When Brittany didn't say more, he shook his head and pressed play on the stereo.

Soft piano notes resonated off the walls, accompanied by the light tapping of a drum symbol. A few seconds into the instrumentals, Quinn's light voice filled the room with the first words of _Say a Little Prayer _while Brittany and I danced behind her. Halfway through our performance, I glanced at Schuester. Surprise was painted over his face as he watched us. Did he really think Sue's Cheerios would have no experience with performing? Putting on a show was what Cheerios did every day. After all, there was only one reason people showed up to McKinley's football games, and it certainly wasn't to watch the team get crushed.

"Color me impressed," he said once the song ended.

"I don't think my crayon box came with that color."

"So practice is when?" Quinn asked before he could think about Brittany's comment. "We'd hate to be late and make a bad impression."

"Three o' clock," he replied as he gathered his papers and his briefcase. "I'm sure the rest of the team will love to have you on board."

"Of course," Quinn agreed as he left the room. A smirk spread across her face and Brittany and I couldn't stop our quiet laughter.

"I'm sure those losers are gonna flip their shit when they see us walk in," I said once Schuester was out of earshot. "How much you wanna bet Berry freaks?"

"I'm not betting against something that is sure to happen, Santana," Quinn replied with a shake of her head. She took a moment to fix her hair, which had loosened during the dance routine, before turning to face Brittany and me. "Don't forget what Sylvester said this morning. We tear this club apart, and we're guaranteed letters of recommendation to any college of our choice. Plus, the troll won't have a reason to hang around Finn anymore."

"Pretty sure she was hanging _off_ of Finnocence during that Push It performance," I reminded her. I laughed when she practically snarled at me in response. "Kidding, Q. Sheesh. We'll get her off your man," I promised.

"Whatever," she said with a sigh. "I'll see you two later. I swear I'll hunt both of you down and murder you if you bail on me."

"Are you kidding, Quinn? I may hate glee club, but I love sabotage," I assured her. "Breaking up that club for Sue is going to be like, the highlight of my month. I wouldn't give up this opportunity for a year of free tanning," I said. She shook her head, but didn't bother commenting. Instead, she reminded us to be back at the room by three and left so she could get to her next class early.

"I told you it would smell like corn syrup in here," Brittany pointed out after Quinn was gone. "And my shoes kept sticking to the floor when we were dancing," she said and I laughed when I saw the pout on her face. "It's not funny. How am I supposed to show off if I can't get my feet to move right?"

"We'll just have to talk to Mr. Schue about it. Tell him if he wants us to keep showing up, he'll have to keep the floor clean," I suggested. Brittany thanked me by placing a kiss on my cheek. I felt my face grow hot after she pulled away, and I looked at the floor to hide the blush I knew was spreading. "Britt, we're at school," I reminded her as I willed my face back to its usual color.

"Yep, we are. Exciting, right?" she asked with a wide smile before she skipped out of the choir room. I wiped the side of my face with my hand as I walked behind her. I wasn't sure if I was trying to wipe the kiss away or rub it deeper into my skin.

Later that afternoon, Quinn, Brittany, and I walked through the choir room doors once more. It was five after three, so the rest of the club members were already sitting in their preferred seats. When they finally noticed the three of us, it was like someone had opened the lid to the chaos jar.

"Oh hell no, Mr. Schue! What the hell are they doing here?" The black girl sitting next to Kurt was the first one to speak over the chorus of protests. I sort of recognized her, but I couldn't remember her name for the life of me. I didn't plan on learning it, either.

"Guys, calm down," Mr. Schuester said as he pulled sheet music out of his briefcase and set it out on the piano. While Mr. Schue fought to silence the rest of the club, Brittany and I walked up the steps to the back of the classroom. The Asian girl who was sitting there squeaked out an apology before standing up and moving to a seat further down. "These three came to me over lunch and auditioned. Frankly, we could use the numbers," he explained once everyone had quieted. "Besides, the New Directions doesn't turn anyone away. Didn't we agree that this was a safe place for those who needed one?"

"Those three are the reason most of us needed a safe place to begin with!" Rachel pointed out, and several heads nodded in agreement. "Mr. Schue, you can't just let them join without consulting the captain of the club!"

"And who would that be, Rachel? You?" Quinn asked from her seat beside Finn, who had his arm draped over her shoulder.

"Actually, yes. And I assure you, Quinn, it would take a lot more than some 'teasing, not pleasing' strategy to convince me to let you guys join," Rachel replied, turning in her seat to stare down the head Cheerio. "While I'm sure you three have a wide array of talents in cheerleading, this is glee club. It's more than just misspelling inspirational words," she continued. "It's expressing the hidden meaning in music and finding the passion in song lyrics," she explained, her eyes slipping closed as she spoke.

"If you're done, Rachel, I'd like to continue," Will said after several moments of awkward silence. She was about to object, but he cut her off, saying, "My decision is final. They auditioned. They got in." The sharp edge to his voice stopped any protests bird-beak and the others may have had left. Once he was sure Rachel wasn't going to interrupt, he directed his attention to the rest of the club.

"Now, I'd appreciate it if all of you would give them the warm welcome they deserve. If you snap at every new member we get, no one is going to want to join. No new members means no chance at sectionals," he reminded them. There were several muttered 'fines' and 'whatevers.' Pleased with the response, Will walked to the whiteboard at the front of the room.

"On to business then," he said with a clap of his hands. He pulled a marker out of the front pocket of his shirt and scrawled a word on the board. I leaned forward and tried to decipher what it said, but his chicken scratch was too sloppy.

"I think Lord Tubbington has better handwriting than him," Brittany whispered in my ear. I chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"'Dance' is the assignment for the week, guys," he said when no one guessed the mystery word. "I've heard some great vocals from all of you, but being part of a show choir is more than just sounding pretty. You've gotta throw some flair into your performances," he explained, emphasizing 'flair' by wiggling his body in what I assumed he thought would be a good dance move. I almost gagged. "So this week, I want you all to find a song that inspires you to put the 'show' back in 'show choir.'"

"Oh, dear god… This is already worse than I expected," I whispered with a shake of my head. I wasn't sure how long it was going to take us to split this band of merry losers up, but I knew it couldn't happen soon enough. If I had to spend longer than a week with Schuester trying to bust a move and Rachel Berry glaring at me every five minutes, I would go insane.

As luck would have it though, a week crawled by, and we weren't even close to accomplishing our goal. Quinn was too busy sticking to Finn and threatening Rachel to think of ways to destroy the club. As for Brittany and me… Well, Brittany really liked the idea of finding a song to dance to, and I liked the idea of her showing off, so we spent our time actually trying to complete the assignment.

I assured myself it was because the topic was dance, which was something Brittany could smoke everyone in. A wasted week in glee club would be totally worth it if I could watch her knock Rachel Berry down a peg. After three nights of searching, we finally found the perfect song for her to dance to. To celebrate, we decided to take advantage of an empty house.

After Brittany finished a final run through of the dance, she grabbed me by the hand and led me up the stairs to her aunt's kitchen. She left me standing by the door to the basement as she rummaged through the contents of several drawers. She made a quiet squealing noise and bounced on the balls of her feet when she pulled out a slip of paper the size of a short receipt.

"Wanna bake a cake, San? My aunt has an awesome recipe for carrot cake and I know that's your favorite."

"What is it with everyone wanting me to bake lately?" I joked as I walked over to her and the recipe she held in her hands. She handed the slip of paper to me and I scanned over the short list of ingredients needed. A few minutes later, the countertop was covered with sugar, eggs, carrots and the other ingredients we needed for the cake.

"Recipes are less confusing when you're around," Brittany admitted as she watched me pour a cup of sugar into a bowl from her perch on the counter. We took turns cracking the eggs after I dumped the second cup of sugar into the mix. I set the bowl in her lap and let her stir the contents together while I washed off the carrots. Once they were clean, I set them on the table before going back to see how Brittany was doing.

"That looks great, Britt," I said before dipping the tip of my finger into the mix. Brittany frowned when I licked the batter off my finger. "Tastes good, too," I added with a wink. She tried to fight a smile, but I could see the corners of her mouth twitching. I coaxed it out by scooping up another sample of the mixture. I held my finger up in front of her face and her eyes crossed as she watched me wipe it on the tip of her nose.

"If you keep wasting it like that, we're not going to have any left for the cake!" Despite the complaint, the smile she had been trying to hold in was spreading across her face.

"Fine, fine. I'll go chop the carrots and leave you to your precious cake batter," I said. I wiped the batter off her nose and went back to the table where I had left the carrots. Several minutes ticked by in a comfortable silence before I heard her say my name.

"San?"

"Mmhm," I responded as I focused on the carrot.

"Do you think… Could I maybe tell you something?"

Brittany's voice was softer than it usually was, and when I looked up from the cutting board, she was no longer stirring the cake mix. Instead, she was tracing circles on the countertop. Her other hand held the edge of the counter in a death grip and her arm was trembling. My brow furrowed as I tried to think of what could have happened in the last few minutes to cause such a drastic shift in her mood. I laid the knife down on the cutting board and stepped around the table. I rested my hand on her knee when I reached her side.

"Hey," I said as I ducked my head so I could see her face. She fought the eye contact, however, and jerked her head away from me. My mouth curved into a frown and I gave her knee a gentle squeeze. "What's goin' on, huh? What do you wanna tell me?"

"I don't want you to hate me," she replied in a tiny voice, and her body seemed to shrink with it.

"Britt, it's pretty much impossible for me to hate you," I said with a smile. I had hoped the words would reassure her, but they seemed to have the opposite effect because her entire body tensed up. I tried to ease some of the tension by running my hand up and down her arm. She remained silent as I trailed my fingers along her skin for the next few minutes. I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally felt the knotted muscles in her bicep loosen beneath my touch.

"I helped Kurt with his Single Ladies dance last week," she started in a shaky voice, and I nodded to show I remembered. I started to rub small circles over her skin to chase away the nerves that were making her voice shake. "His dad came downstairs while we were dancing and, well… San, it hurt to see him lie about what we were doing and hide himself away from the person who means the most to him," she explained, and my stomach suddenly felt heavy. Oblivious to the weight she was causing in my gut, Brittany blew out a puff of air and continued. "Kurt talked to me yesterday and said he told his dad the truth. He doesn't have to hide from him anymore, and he's so much happier now," she said with a wistful expression on her face. "San," she finally turned her head to meet my gaze, "I don't want to hide from you anymore."

My hand stilled as I mulled over what she had said. I knew what she was trying to tell me, but my brain refused to believe it until she actually said the words aloud. Part of me hoped I was wrong. That Brittany and I were on completely different pages in separate books.

"San, I like making out with guys, but being with girls… I like that, too," she said, confirming what I had been hoping against. For once in my life though, I wasn't concerned about how my reputation would be affected. Instead, I was mentally freaking out because my best friend had just told me she was like Kurt, a boy who was constantly bullied for being the way he was. Brittany couldn't be like Kurt. She had to be making a mistake.

"How can you be so sure, Britt?" I asked in a hoarse voice. "Just because you've slept with me doesn't mean you're the same as Kurt. I'm just one girl. It doesn't mean anything."

"But I'm not like Kurt, Santana," she said in a small voice.

"You just said-"

"I said I like being with girls, not that I stopped liking guys," she snapped. "And you're _not_ the only girl I've slept with so don't try to tell me I'm confused."

My thoughts screeched to a halt when the meaning to her words sank in. I pulled my hand away from her arm and took several steps back. She chose to return her gaze to the floor.

"Those two weeks we weren't talking to each other, I went to a few parties thrown by some Carmel kids," she quietly explained and my hands curled into fists. "I wanted to dance and forget we were fighting. I kept seeing this super hot girl around and she really liked dancing with me. The third time we ran into each other, we did the no pants dance and I really liked it."

"And when did you originally plan to tell me about this, Britt?" I asked in a low voice. In the back of my mind, I recalled my grandmother's words. Now I knew how she had heard rumors about Brittany, but not me. "When did you plan on telling me you fucked some girl you barely knew? Do you even know what her name was?"

"Her name was Anna and I didn't ever plan on telling you," she replied, and it felt as if she had just punched me in the stomach.

"Britt—"

"Please don't hate me, San," she interrupted, and it hurt to hear her voice so small. In all the years I had known her, I had never heard her sound so scared. "I know you don't like the idea of being gay or anything like it, but I can't help it. I've tried to get rid of it so you wouldn't be disappointed, but it won't go away and I can't ignore this part of me anymore."

Her grip on the counter had tightened, and I could see the edges biting into her palm. Without a word, I stepped forward and took her hand in mine. She avoided meeting my eyes again, so I settled for rubbing my thumb over her palm to soothe the reddened skin.

"I can't say this is the best news I've had all year," I said, breaking the silence that had invaded the kitchen. She still didn't look at me, choosing to stare across the room instead, so I continued. "But Brittany, you're my best friend. That's not going to change any time soon."

"You're not mad?" she asked, and she finally met my gaze as she waited for my answer.

"I'm not exactly happy about it," I admitted with a sigh, "but it has nothing to do with you," I assured her when she tried to pull away from me. "I just don't like the idea of people treating you differently because of this," I said before a thought struck me. "God, what about your parents, B?"

"I don't want to tell them yet," she admitted with a shake of her head. "And when I do tell them, they'll just blame each other for screwing me up. That's not different," she said with a sigh. "So you don't hate me?" she asked. "This… This thing doesn't like, freak you out?"

I smiled and shook my head before I pulled her down from the countertop. Almost immediately, she pulled me into a tight embrace. It was like she was still afraid I would leave her if I was given the chance to think about what she had told me.

"A few years ago, I made a promise," I reminded her. She sniffled in response, so I took that as my cue to continue. "I told you I would always see you as the awesome and wonderful person you are. What you just told me, it doesn't change anything. It's a lot to take in, but I still intend to keep that promise."

"Thank you," she whispered against my ear before pulling away and walking over to the cutting board I had abandoned. I decided to give her the space she needed to process how I had responded to her confession, so I hung back by the counter and watched her. While she finished chopping up the carrots for our cake, I went over our conversation again.

The part that stuck out the most was when she mentioned I wasn't the only girl she had slept with. That sentence kept repeating itself, and each time my brain replayed it, the churning in my stomach seemed to get worse.

* * *

I want to apologize for taking so long to update again. I don't really have an excuse. If I did have one, it would would probably suck. Anyway, I tried to balance out the angst, humor, and fluffiness in this chapter. I hope I did okay. You'll find out what song Brittany is dancing to next chapter. Don't forget about my tumblr ( **skillzyo . tumblr. com** ) if you ever want to see what's up in mi vida. I'd love to talk to all of you. :D Thank you all for the reviews, story alerts, and favorites. I don't deserve to have such awesome readers. Also, I hope you've enjoyed the story up this point, because it's quite possible that we'll all be dead after tonight. Hasta luego!

**Fun Fact:** Emma Pillsbury is my favorite adult in Glee.

**Note:** Last thing, I swear. I'm kind of playing with the timeline of the first few episodes. Obviously Puck, Mike, and Matt aren't in the Glee club just yet, but I still have the events from Preggers (Kurt, Britt, and Tina doing the Single Ladies dance and Kurt telling his dad about being gay). Hopefully this rearranging of events doesn't bother too many of you. I'm trying not to stick to the show exactly, but still have major plot points. So you'll get Puck and the other guys in the club soon enough. :] Also, maybe you'll get to meet the aforementioned Anna. ;D


	10. A Familiar Kind of Breakdown

**AN:** I did not mean for so much time to pass between this update and the last, but this chapter gave me a lot of trouble and I'm not entirely happy with it. Also, I did some editing in chapter 9 so Brittany's coming out as bisexual would be clearer. It was something I failed to capture the first time I wrote it. Hopefully the revised version is better. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

"So," I started as I pushed around the crumbs of what remained of my cake, "what do you think about Quinn?" Brittany looked up from her second piece and I tried to avoid the questioning look she gave me by keeping my attention on my plate. I cleared my throat before I dropped my fork on the table and folded my hands so I could rest my chin as I asked, "I mean on a scale from one to ten, how hot do you think she is?"

Brittany's brow furrowed. "I don't get why you're asking."

"Well, I already know your type when it comes to guys. I think it's my duty as your best friend to figure out what your type is when it comes to girls," I explained. She stared back in response. I rolled my eyes and said, "How am I going to be a good wingman if I don't know what kind of girls you like?"

"Getting a pilot license would be a good first step," Brittany responded. I tilted my head, raised an eyebrow, and Brittany blushed before looking down at her cake. "Do we have to talk about this right now?"

"This is juicy stuff, Britt," I said. "Or are you embarrassed about who you like? Don't tell me you're secretly in love with Berry." Brittany shook her head and the corners of her lips twitched upward. "Come on," I groaned. "I'm going to be the worst best friend ever if I don't know this stuff about you."

She tapped her fork against her plate, thinking over my words. Maybe it was too soon to ask her about this. I wasn't even sure I was ready to know. But she was my best friend and it was the best idea I had to show her I was still there for her. She glanced up from her cake and I stuck my lower lip out in a pout and batted my eyelashes. The smile that had been fighting to appear came out in full force.

"You win, but stop with the puppy pout," she said. I pushed my lower lip out even further and Brittany leaned closer to trap my pouting lips in a kiss. It was different from the others we had shared. Softer and more restrained, most likely for my sake. It should have felt strange, kissing her after what she had admitted, but the only thing strange about it was how reserved she was being.

She pulled away and the grin on her face had shrunk into a shy smile that she tried to hide by ducking her head once more. She mumbled an apology as she played with the half-eaten piece of cake on her plate. I wasn't sure who I surprised more when I placed a finger beneath her chin, tilted her head up, and returned the kiss with a deeper one.

It tasted like spice cake and sugar.

When I pulled away, her grin had returned.

"I didn't know if you'd want to do that anymore."

I shrugged. "Like you said before. It doesn't mean anything."

And just like that, any trace of the smile was gone, and Brittany was looking at her plate again. Her fingers tapped against the table for several seconds before she pushed her chair back and grabbed both of our plates. They both still had cake on them, but Brittany tossed the slices in the trash before she placed the plates in the dishwasher and slammed it shut.

"Hey, I wasn't done with that."

Brittany turned to face me, but her expression was unreadable. It wasn't angry or sad or happy. It was blank and I couldn't tell what was going on behind those bright blue eyes. The morning after we had slept together for the first time, she had worn a similar expression.

"Britt?"

Before she could answer, the front door opened and her family walked in, led by a disheveled and muddy Gracie holding a soccer ball, followed by Mrs. Pierce and Brittany's Aunt Hannah. The blank look on Brittany's face was replaced with a thin smile at the sight of her family shuffling inside. Gracie used her feet to pull off her muddy cleats at the door and cut across the living room to the kitchen. Her eyes widened at the sight of the carrot cake on the counter and she dropped the ball on the floor before hurrying to the cupboard to get a plate.

"How was practice?" Brittany asked as she watched Gracie place two slices of cake on her plate.

"Muddy and gross, but I guess it was fun if you like that kind of thing."

After the candle debacle that burned their house down, the Pierce parents had thought getting Gracie into a sport would give her an outlet for her stress. She had been playing soccer for almost a year. In theory, it should have helped, but her parents still expected her to excel in all of her classes while doing well in soccer. Sometimes I felt sorry for the little brat.

Mrs. Pierce stepped into the kitchen soon after Gracie, but her reaction to the cake was a far cry from Gracie's. "Brittany, what did we tell you about cooking while we're gone?"

Just like their treatment of Gracie hadn't differed in the two years since the fire, their treatment of Brittany had stayed the same as well. She may not have been the one to burn down their house, but her parents still acted as if it had been her fault and still treated her like she was going to bring Hannah's house crashing down around them.

"Lisa, leave the poor girls alone," Hannah said as she joined her sister at the counter with Gracie's soccer bag slung over her shoulder. "It's not like my house isn't insured." Mrs. Pierce glared at the other woman. I was almost certain it was a jab about the lack of insurance Brittany's parents had on their own home when it burned down. "Besides, it's baking. The worst they can do is make the place smell like smoke for a week."

Mrs. Pierce grumbled, but refrained from making any more statements about Brittany's baking abilities. Instead, she went on to talk about Gracie's soccer practice. The coach didn't know talent, apparently, because all she did was yell at Gracie during the practice. The youngest Pierce turned a deep shade of red and focused her attention on the cake she was eating. Brittany looked just as uncomfortable, shifting her weight from one foot to the other even as she placed a hand on Gracie's shoulder.

"Do you want to go catch up on some episodes of Sweet Valley High?" I asked, trying to give Brittany an out from what her mom was most likely going to talk about next. Normally, after discussing anything Gracie, Brittany's parents would bring up Brittany's academic shortcomings. Brittany hesitated before she nodded and started for the door to the basement. She and Gracie both were surprised when I asked Gracie to come with us.

"Don't think I'm inviting you because I'm starting to like you, Nerdette," I said as we walked down the stairs. "And if you talk during the show, I _will_ get the duct tape out."

Once we were in Brittany's room, I told Gracie to load the first disc into the DVD player. She muttered under her breath, but did as she was told. While she set up the show, I attempted to shove Lord Tubbington off Brittany's bed, but it was a futile attempt. In the end, Brittany had to coax him off the mattress with the cat treats she kept in her desk drawer. One or two would have sufficed, but Brittany poured a pile on the floor to keep him happy.

With the furry blob removed from the bed, Brittany and I took our usual spot beneath her light pink comforter while Gracie sat on the floor. Brittany tossed Gracie the pillows we weren't using and I kicked one of the blankets off the bed so she could get comfortable. She grumbled her appreciation. I could hear her shifting the pillows and blanket. Once I felt her weight against the edge of the bed, I asked her to turn the light off. Brittany chuckled when Gracie groaned, but got out of the bed herself, taking the warmth of her body with her. The room darkened and I hit play on the remote, fast-forwarding through advertisements until Brittany climbed back under the blanket.

All too aware of Gracie's presence, I made sure our bodies weren't as close as they normally were. If Brittany noticed, she didn't say anything. She kept her gaze glued to the screen. Halfway through the first episode, I found myself wondering why we even watched the show. Then I remembered we normally didn't watch.

Brittany seemed to remember at the same time because I suddenly felt her breath on my neck. Her mouth was dangerously close to my skin and I knew what I would find if I looked over. Even in the darkness of our bedrooms, I could always tell when Brittany's eyes darkened.

"Britt, Gracie is in here," I hissed as I jerked away from her.

"I can be quiet if you can," she teased in a low voice.

I turned my head to glare at her, but found her smiling. Her eyes weren't the dark blue I was used to seeing whenever she was in the mood to fool around.

"You're such a—" I wanted to say tease, but Gracie was still in the room. "You know what you are," I growled before rolling onto my side, away from her.

She laughed and soon I felt her body pressed against mine, her arm draped over my side and her fingers running along my stomach. I could feel the tips of her fingers through my Cheerio uniform. My eyes flickered to the edge of the bed, where I could see the top of Gracie's blonde head, but the younger girl hadn't budged since we put the show on. Soon, Brittany's chin rested on my shoulder and her soft breath was on my neck once more.

"I'm not trying to seduce you," she whispered, "but I'm pretty sure the show would be way more interesting if I was."

I glanced at the edge of the bed again, wondering if Gracie had heard her. Brittany sighed and her hand slipped away from my stomach, her arm away from my side, and she rolled away from me. Her absence was noticeable and I wanted to move closer, to rest my head on her chest while we watched the show like I normally would, but Gracie's presence made me hesitate. It wouldn't be the first time she caught us in that position if she looked over, but things were different. Brittany was… Well, she was still Brittany, despite what I had learned in the kitchen.

I took a breath to steady my nerves before I scooted across the mattress until I was pressed against Brittany's body. Her eyes flickered down to meet mine. When she saw me looking back at her, she smiled and slipped her arm around me, pulling me closer so we could both get comfortable. I resisted the urge to look at the edge of the bed again, but my heart still pounded in my chest at the thought of Gracie catching us. Then Brittany's fingers were running through my hair. She turned onto her side and pressed her forehead against mine. Even if I couldn't see it, I knew she was smiling. And for a moment, I forgot about Gracie and I smiled, too.

"Thank you, Santana," she whispered. Her voice shook slightly, and it finally clicked just how afraid she had been of losing me and our friendship over what she had told me.

Brittany S. Pierce, the girl who had walked through a burning house without a second thought, had been terrified of losing me. I remembered the way I had felt the morning after the fire. The terror of knowing how close I had come to losing her and the relief from realizing I still had her. She needed to know she still had me.

"It's no problem, B," I said before placing a soft kiss on her lips.

It was only meant to reassure her that nothing had changed between us, but as I pulled away, I wondered if that were true. Had my heart always sped up whenever we kissed? Had I always felt this content whenever we touched? Without a word, we shifted back into our usual position—my head on her chest, my arm over her stomach—and I stared at the television, biting my lip.

It was true: Nothing had changed.

And that's what scared me.

* * *

We spent the next three nights practicing the dance for Glee club. I kept telling myself it didn't matter, that we had more talent than any of those losers, but there was still a need to prove it to them. They didn't want us there, so what would be better than showing them how much they needed us to win? The practices with Brittany were intense—I never realized how hard Brittany pushed herself in dance until that first practice left me sitting breathless on the floor, each muscle sore—but they also kept my mind off that night in her bedroom and the path my thoughts had taken.

The day of our performance, Brittany was practically bouncing in the hallways as we walked from one class to another and she couldn't keep the smile off her face. While the performance didn't matter to me, her excitement was contagious and by the end of the day, I was actually looking forward to performing.

"How pissed do you think Berry will be when she realizes she's not the only star in the room?" I asked when we stepped out of our last class together.

"You don't think she'd quit, do you?" Her pinky hooked around mine as we walked down the hall.

I shrugged. "You know how she gets when she isn't the center of attention." When Brittany didn't respond, I looked over and found her frowning. "It's what Sylvester wants, Britt. And okay, maybe it's a little entertaining to watch Finn try to dance, but don't forget what we're here to do."

She pouted, but there wasn't much I could do. What Sylvester wanted, she got.

"Look, even if Rachel leaves, maybe the club won't fall to pieces, but I wouldn't get your hopes up," I said. "And if it does fall apart, what's to miss about a room full of losers?"

"It's fun," she said with a shrug. Something told me there was more to her reasoning, but I didn't press the issue. We were too close to the choir room and it would have been a disaster if one of the Gleeks overheard that one of us actually enjoyed their club.

Our conversation shifted to our plans for the weekend, but when we stepped into the choir room, we both fell silent. Schuester had apparently conned three new people into joining Glee. I didn't care much about Mike and Matt. I was more concerned about the idiot with the Mohawk sitting between them.

Puck wasn't supposed to be there. He was supposed to be on the football field with twenty other guys, smashing his head in and losing more brain cells. But there he was, taking up one of the plastic chairs in the middle row of the choir room, a smug smirk on his face as soon as we stepped through the door. My footsteps faltered and the urge to flee the room was overwhelming. I felt a tug on my hand towards the hallway and allowed Brittany to lead me back outside, away from Puck's gaze.

"What the hell does he think he is doing," I said as she led me away from the door. "Shit, what are any of them doing here?" I pinched the bridge of my nose and groaned. "What the hell are they doing?"

"Maybe they discovered the power of Beyoncé," she said with a shrug. I glared at her. "I'm serious, Santana. Last week they did that Single Ladies dance at the football game. Maybe they're just trying to absorb that power."

I sighed and shook my head. "Why today?"

Brittany bit her lip and looked at the floor. She scuffed the tip of her shoe on the linoleum as she said, "If you don't want to do the dance, you don't have to."

She glanced up at me and I knew she was serious. But I also knew she had been looking forward to the performance since Schuester announced the assignment and if I backed out now, all of our hard work over the last few days would have been for nothing.

"It's not like we haven't danced in front of them a million times before," I said, and I was rewarded with a smile. "Now shouldn't be any different, I guess."

I meant it when I said it in the hallway, but as we watched Kurt and Mercedes dance, my fingers started to fidget in my lap. Brittany took the fidgeting fingertips in her hand and gently squeezed. I gave her a shaky smile in response and tried to ignore Puck, who kept looking back at us. It wasn't until we were the ones standing in the center of the choir room that I realized how different it really was from dancing at parties. There weren't dozens of people to surround us, to hide us. More importantly, there was no alcohol to blame our actions on. And when Schuester hit play on the CD we brought, my stomach tightened into a knot. The backbeat pulsed from the stereo and Brittany's foot tapped along with it.

I tried not to look at Puck as I started to sing in a shaky voice, "It's getting late. I'm makin' my way over to my favorite place. Gotta get my body movin', shake the stress away."

I almost sighed in relief when Brittany started to move around me, taking some of the attention away. My voice got stronger as we got further into the song. And when I kept my eyes on Brittany, I mostly forgot about Puck and his friends. When we reached the chorus, her hand slipped into mine and she spun me, just as we had practiced, but when I faced her again, there was a look in her eyes that hadn't been there in her basement.

They seemed softer somehow and I couldn't help but smile while I sang. Her eyes were glued to mine and mine to hers. The rest of the choir room melted away so Brittany and I were in our own world. A world where we could dance together without judgment, without the need to use alcohol as an excuse. A world where I could tell her everything. Then the chorus ended. Her hand was gone and it took the moment with it. Shocked from the sudden loss, I stumbled over the next couple of words, but quickly regained my place in the song.

"Don't you feel the passion ready to explode?" I glanced at our audience to gauge their reaction to the dance so far, but all I saw was the smirk on Puck's face. "What goes on between us no one has to know." He shoved Mike to get his attention and whispered something in his ear. "This is a private show—"

A sharp wolf-whistle from the audience interrupted the performance and I knew without looking it was Puck. Then I heard his familiar laughter. When I finally looked over, he was laughing with Mike and Matt. My heart sped up. My feet stopped moving. I couldn't sing the words anymore. The music still played, but all I could hear was Puck's idiotic laughter. When I looked back at Brittany, she had stopped dancing as well. The way she was looking at me, her mouth drawn in a thin line, it was like she knew what to expect next. And as much as I wanted to surprise her—to stay and finish the dance—I couldn't.

"I'm sorry," I said in a tight voice before turning on my heel and fleeing the choir room.

She didn't follow.

* * *

I didn't know where I was going, but anywhere was better than being trapped between Puck's lecherous gaze and Brittany's disappointed one. Soon I was walking out the front doors of McKinley and wandering down the street. The cool fall air made a shiver run up my spine and I wrapped my arms over my torso. I couldn't go back to get my jacket. It was still sitting next to my chair in the choir room and going back for it meant seeing Brittany again. Another chill crawled up my spine, but it had less to do with the weather and more to do with the idea of seeing that blank expression on Brittany's face again.

I ended up on the bench in front of the dance studio where Brittany practiced. I held my phone in my lap, willing it to buzz with a text message or a phone call, but the screen stayed dark and the phone stayed still. I groaned and leaned forward to rest my head in my hands. It was stupid to expect her to text me after I bailed on her, but I still had hope that she understood. That hope was dwindling when the phone finally vibrated. Brittany's name flashed across the screen beneath a virtual envelope and my heart hammered in my chest while my thumb hovered over the 'open' button. I closed my eyes as I pressed the button, trying to put off reading whatever Brittany had sent me. When I opened them, however, there was only one sentence in the message.

_Your stuff is at the park_.

I waited for any other messages that might follow. When none came, I sighed and slid the phone back into my bra before getting to my feet. Of course she would go to the park. It was no mystery where she would be waiting either.

The cool air was hardly noticeable as I walked down the streets of Lima. My thoughts were too wrapped up in what I would tell Brittany when I saw her again. By the time I reached the peeling white archway of the park, I still hadn't come up with anything to tell her. I fidgeted for a moment before I stepped under the arch and headed for the pond.

It didn't take long to spot her when I reached the grassy area of the park. She was at the water's edge, her knees pulled up to her chest and both our backpacks beside her. Luckily, the ducks were all bobbing the water so I didn't have to worry about them swarming me when I approached her. Still, it took several seconds for me to gather my courage and walk over to her. She didn't even glance at me when I sat next to her. Her only acknowledgement of my presence was scooting over to put space between us.

"Brittany—"

"Please don't, Santana."

I let the words die on my lips and brought my knees up to my chest, mimicking her position. No words were spoken between us for several minutes. When she broke the silence, her voice was barely above a whisper and I strained to hear it over the sounds of children playing nearby.

"I used to come here by myself to feed the ducks and I'd pretend I wasn't here alone. That I had a friend beside me to laugh with," she said. "Then I met you and I didn't have to pretend anymore." She finally looked at me and I immediately wished she hadn't. I couldn't stomach seeing the disappointment on her face. "Except now we're older and I'm stuck pretending again."

I reached out to wipe the tears away, but she jerked her head away and went back to staring at the pond. I huffed and returned my gaze to the pond as well. Why did she have to make me the bad guy? I didn't ask for any of it—whatever 'it' was—to happen.

"What the hell do you want me to say? I'm sorry for running out on you? Because I am."

"The truth, Santana," Brittany said. "That's all I've ever wanted, but it doesn't look like I'll be getting it any time soon if you can't even dance with me in Glee club."

"Puck was there!"

"Why does that even matter?" she said as she plucked a piece of grass and rolled it between her fingers. "Puck is an idiot, and that's coming from me."

"Don't do that."

She glanced over at me before she returned her gaze to the blade of grass between her fingertips. "You know, you were the only person who never made me feel like an idiot, but do you know how stupid I felt after you just left me?"

My hands balled into fists and I looked away, choosing to stare at the pond instead. Why couldn't she see that I had tried?

"Do you still want to know what my type is?" The question took me by surprise. When I looked back at Brittany, her stare was so intense that I almost scooted away from her. She didn't wait for an answer. "Someone who fits perfectly beside me while we watch Sweet Valley High. Someone who acts like she's the toughest person in the world, when really she would take a class she didn't need just because she's looking out for me. Someone who doesn't mind holding me through the occasional thunderstorm," she said before looking back down at the grass. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before getting to her feet. "And she's someone who isn't afraid to dance with me."

"I… Brittany, I can't."

She sighed and stared down at her shoes. "Then I guess I'll just have to keep waiting, huh?" She picked up the backpack and jacket she had brought with her and dropped them in my lap. "I'll see you tomorrow, Santana."

I watched her walk across the park until she disappeared beneath the arch. "See you tomorrow, Brittany."

I clutched my backpack to my chest and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay. But the backpack still smelled like Brittany and I imagined her holding it close while she waited for me. I lost my battle against the tears and they silently fell down my cheeks and pooled on the rough fabric of my backpack.

The sky was starting to darken when I finally got to my feet. The sensation of pins and needles attacked my legs and I nearly ended up on the ground again. Once the feeling returned to my legs, I started for the entrance of the park. When I reached it, however, I didn't go towards home. Instead, I headed for a place I hadn't been since eighth grade. I didn't even know if it was still standing.

The nice homes near the park soon turned to apartment complexes that gradually got worse the further I walked. The apartment complexes turned to factory buildings. Finally, the factory buildings turned into the faded houses of Brittany's old neighborhood. It had been nearly two years since my last visit, but my body still reacted the same way: quickened heart rate, cold sweat on my neck, trembling hands. I stuffed my shaking hands into the pockets of my jacket and tried to ignore the way my muscles tensed the closer I got to my destination.

The warehouse was still there.

The remains of Brittany's old house may have been long gone, but the abandoned warehouse was still standing. It's presence was just as ominous as it had been the last time I saw it. It seemed the surrounding lawn had become a small junkyard over the years. Cans and glass bottles were littered throughout the dead grass, most likely left by teenagers who needed a place to drink away from their parents' eyes. Pieces of rotted wood were scattered throughout the yard, leftover from who knew what. A section of someone's rusty fence stuck up from the ground. I clenched my jaw as I approached the building. The side door was wide open, but I couldn't get myself to go anywhere near it. Instead, I slid my backpack off and exchanged it for one of the empty bottles.

I tested the weight in my hands for a moment. Then I closed my eyes and threw it as hard as I could at the rusty structure, grunting with the effort. The glass shattered, but the warehouse was still there. I scowled and picked up another bottle.

"This is all your fucking fault," I said before I chucked the second bottle. It broke against the large door as well and its remnants fell to the ground to join the other broken shards. I stepped closer and picked up a can this time. "If I hadn't spent the night here, I wouldn't be like this." The can didn't get much distance when I threw it and some of the liquid still left inside sprayed on my face. I decided to stick with the bottles. "Things could be different if it weren't for you," I shouted before I grabbed another bottle and threw it. It sailed over the roof.

Since throwing things was getting me nowhere, I went with a more direct approach. I picked up one of the rotted boards and walked towards the building. The closer I got, the slower my steps were until I came to a stop several feet in front of the large door. My hand shook, so I tightened my grip on the piece of wood, hoping it would stop.

"If I hadn't stayed here, maybe I could have… I could have…" I slammed the piece of wood against the aluminum door and it shook from the blow. "I could tell her what she wants to hear if it wasn't for you," I shouted before hitting it again. "I could be happy!"

The wood split against the rusty door, but at least there was a dent left behind. I dropped the broken board and stared at the mark I had left behind. I traced the dent with my index finger for a moment and scowled before kicking the warehouse. The kicks turned into pounding fists accompanied by unintelligible shouts. Sweat matted my bangs to my forehead by the time I finished pounding on the warehouse door and several strands of hair were free from my ponytail. I breathed heavily and rested my forehead against the cool metal.

I thought going there would help, but all I had managed to do was wear my voice out and make my hands hurt. I didn't know where to go from there, but home didn't feel like an option. The place I wanted to be wasn't much of an option either. That only left one other place to go and the thought of going there made me groan. I sighed before I pulled my phone out of my bra.

I scrolled through my contacts, hesitating when I passed Brittany's name. The other contacts in my phone were useless until I got to Quinn's name. My thumb hovered over the button for several seconds. Then I hit 'call' and hoped she would answer.

* * *

**AN:** This fic is my baby. I know it takes me a long time to update, but please never feel like I'm abandoning it. I'm almost always thinking about it. Anyway, thank you for reading and hopefully the next chapters go smoothly.

Song they danced to was _**Please Don't Stop the Music**_ by **Rihanna**


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